


Chambers

by starfishstar



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, but maybe eventually it can be, everything isn't fine just because the war is over, the winter after Deathly Hallows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-09
Updated: 2013-01-09
Packaged: 2017-11-24 07:54:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/632151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starfishstar/pseuds/starfishstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the winter after the war, Ginny navigates not only her own recurring nightmares, but also the demands of Quidditch captaincy, the weirdness of double-dating with one's brother and the surprisingly difficult path back to Harry, along with Hermione's obsession with inter-house unity, Neville's retreat into his books, Luna's lonely family life and a gaping hole in Ginny's family where her middle brother used to be.</p><p>In the winter after the war, Ginny starts putting the pieces back together, with a little help from her friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story has five chapters. (And a small companion story you might enjoy afterwards, Saturdays at the Shop with George.)
> 
> One very small note: I generally stick punctiliously to canon (even the canon JKR talked about after the books were finished, which isn't even technically canon) but here I've made one small deliberate change, and given the wizarding world a new newspaper to replace the Daily Prophet.

. . . . .

_Every heart is much the same_

_We tell ourselves down here_

_The same chambers fed by veins_

_The same maze of love and fear_

_–Josh Ritter, In the Dark_

. . . . .

 

It was nearly six months after Harry defeated Voldemort for good that Ginny started having dreams about Tom Riddle.

Not Voldemort as he was in the end, snake-eyed and scary and inhuman, but handsome young Tom Riddle, the way he had appeared when he stepped out of the diary.

The first time she had the dream, Ginny just turned and ran as fast as she could, out of the Chamber of Secrets and down a stone corridor that seemed to stretch on forever. But no matter how she ran, Tom Riddle was always right beside her with his dangerous, handsome smile. Ginny woke up with her throat dry.

The next time she dreamt about him, Ginny stood her ground. "What are you doing here?" she demanded. "Harry killed you. You're dead."

"But _am_ I?" he purred. "Haven't you thought that once before? I am nothing if not a master at cheating death."

"You're dead," Ginny insisted.

"Oh, now, don't be rude," he whispered, and reached out to stroke her cheek with one cold finger. Ginny shuddered, but forced herself not to recoil. "Do I look dead to you?" he pressed.  
  
"No," she said, "but this is an old you, the one that was just a memory. There was another you – I mean, it was you, but later – and Harry killed you – in the Great Hall at the end of the Battle of Hogwarts." Ginny felt she should have been able to explain this better, but it was all getting muddled.

"Ah," murmured the young Tom Riddle. "Killed _me_? In battle? Now, if killing were that simple, don't you think I would have wiped out everyone you love just like this?" He snapped his fingers, and Ginny woke up.

She tried to ask Hermione casually, later that day when she managed to catch her alone in the dormitory.

They were in the same room now, since Hermione was the only Gryffindor girl of her year who'd come back to Hogwarts. Neville was back too, intent on achieving his N.E.W.T.s, since last time around he'd been rather more concerned with battling evil than revising.

Everyone else from Gryffindor had moved on. Like Harry and Ron.

"How do we know Voldemort is really dead?" Ginny asked Hermione now.

Hermione glanced up sharply from something she was reading, sitting cross-legged on her bed. "What do you mean?"

"Well… they thought that last time too, didn't they?"

"Yes, but last time – well, last time was different, wasn't it? They never found his body. No one witnessed what happened except Harry, and he was just a baby. And no one but Dumbledore understood even a bit about Horcruxes."

"I'm _still_ not sure I understand about Horcruxes," Ginny muttered.

"Oh." Hermione looked anxious, the same way she did when facing a tough question in class. "I'm not sure I'm the right person to try to go through all the details. Wouldn't you rather ask Harry to really explain it properly, next Hogsmeade weekend?"

Ginny sighed. "No, I mean, I know what they _are._ I just don't know how to be sure they _worked_."

"I can promise you that," Hermione said, her voice suddenly so fierce it got Ginny's full attention. "I was there for most of them and watched them die. And for the ones I didn't see myself, I have it on the authority of people I trust with more than my life." Hermione, not usually one for physical affection, reached out and touched Ginny's shoulder. "I know it's a lot to take in, even now. It's okay to still be scared."

"I know," Ginny said. "At least, theoretically I know. But thanks, Hermione."

"If you want," Hermione offered, "I've got a book –"

That finally got Ginny to laugh, because only Hermione would have a book about what to do when you're worried a deceased Dark Lord is still plotting to take over the world.

"What?" Hermione asked, then smiled ruefully. "…Oh."

That night there were no bad dreams, and Ginny thought she had won. But a week later, Tom Riddle starting turning up again.

It always started in the Chamber of Secrets.

"Why are you here?" Ginny demanded, trying not to let him see how scared of him she was. "Why don't you go bother someone else?"

He smiled, that smile that made her want to crawl out of her skin, and asked, "Haven't you always been my special confidante, Ginny?"

Some nights, he explained to her in excruciating detail his plans for Britain. He made her fly with him over the countryside, where he pointed out the villages he would raze for their defiance of him, the monuments he would erect to himself.

This time, he assured Ginny, he wouldn't bother with a registration commission, he'd just get rid of the Mudbloods straight away.

Tom Riddle's way of flying wasn't like flying on a broomstick. There was none of the swooping, the turns, the exhilaration. Just his cold hand holding her up by the scruff of her school robes as he flew on, always in a straight line.

Ginny knew she couldn't escape him by running, but she fought him every step of the way with words. "There won't be any monuments to you," she shouted over the rush of wind. "You lost. No one will remember you."

"Oh?" he replied. "Really, have you forgotten me? I was under the impression you kept me right here." He placed one icy finger over Ginny's heart, and she dropped out of the sky and woke up in her bed, shivering.

In her waking hours, Ginny threw herself into Quidditch. It seemed to be the only way to exhaust herself enough that she didn't dream of Riddle, or at least if she did, she didn't remember afterward.

Ginny hadn't understood at first why she'd been made team captain. She was a good player, above average certainly, but nothing exceptional. But now, as autumn gave way to winter, turning the air crisp and painful to breathe, Ginny discovered she had a talent for organising people, for grouping them together and bringing out their strengths.

The new Seeker, a third-year named Matthias, was obviously no Harry, but he was improving fast. Most of the rest of the team already had experience, and had flown well together from the start.

At the end of practice on a particularly frigid Friday in early November, Ginny landed, detached her frozen hands from her broomstick, and called the team to her.

"You're doing great," she said. "To look at you, you wouldn't know this team had a couple rough years behind it. You fly like pros, your plays are flawless, and I say we're going to _flatten_ Slytherin next weekend. What do you say?"

A cheer rose up around her, and Ginny found herself smiling.

She left her broom in the shed and headed back toward the castle, but turned when she heard footsteps on the frosty grass. Ritchie Coote, the sixth-year Beater, was loping up behind her.

"Hey, Ginny," he called, as he caught up to her. "Good practice, huh?"

Ginny nodded. She liked all of her team as a group, but now that she was supposed to be the one in charge, she never knew quite what to say to them individually. To be on the safe side, she tried to keep it general. "Everybody's come a long way since the beginning of the year," she said this time.

"You're doing a good job," he replied. "You're a really good captain."

"Thanks," Ginny said, though most days she felt like she was barely scraping by.

"Just thought you should know." He shrugged and gave her a goofy grin. "Anyway. See you later!" They'd reached the Entrance Hall, where Ritchie went up the stairs, while Ginny headed straight into the Great Hall for dinner.

 _What was that about?_ she wondered.

Ginny shovelled some food down, then stumbled upstairs to the shower and then the dormitory, nothing on her mind beyond falling into bed.

The other girls were still down in the common room, but Hermione was in the dormitory, sitting on her own bed and clutching her knees to her chest in a way that meant she was lost in thought somewhere.

She looked up when Ginny came in and said, "Hey. Looking forward to Hogsmeade?"

Ginny had honestly forgotten. Not that she wasn't looking forward to it, just that between battling her nightmares and wrangling her team, on top of N.E.W.T.-level coursework, most days she was left just about able to remember her own name.

Hermione seemed to take Ginny's silence as agreement. "I've just had an owl from Ron," she said, hugging her knees tighter. "They can get here around noon, and we'll meet them in the village. Does that sound okay?"

"Of course," Ginny agreed, dropping onto her own bed and flinging her wet towel over the foot of it. She didn't know why she was nervous. It was just Harry.

The next day dawned clear but cold, and without any bad dreams. Ginny walked over to Hogsmeade with Hermione and a couple other seventh-years, wrapped up tightly in a scarf her mum had knitted a few years before. The sky behind the bare trees was so pale it looked white, and Ginny wondered if it might snow.

She and Hermione split off from the others outside the Three Broomsticks, and Hermione pushed open the door.

Ginny saw them right away, Harry and Ron, saving them a table at the back. Ron went a ridiculous shade of pink when he saw Hermione, and nudged Harry.

Harry looked up, straight at Ginny, and grinned. Some knot she hadn't even known was tied up in her stomach loosened.

She and Hermione picked their way through the crowded pub to the boys. Hermione looked at Ron and Ron looked at Hermione with a daft grin on his face. "Hey," both of them said, then Ron added, "Hey, Ginny."

It was weird double-dating with your brother. But it had quickly become clear that Ron wanted to watch her snog his friend just as little as she wanted to watch him snog _her_ friend, so by the year's second Hogsmeade weekend, they'd worked out an unspoken agreement: all meet up for lunch, then split off for the afternoon. Ginny wondered if Harry missed having more time with Ron and Hermione, just the three of them like it used to be, but she wasn't sure how to go about asking.

Hermione and Ron crammed in on one side of the small table and Ginny joined Harry on the other. He squeezed her hand under the table and she squeezed back.

"So, what's new in the real world?" Hermione asked.

It was a silly question, since Hermione still read the newspaper front to back every morning – the new one, the Magical Mirror, which had replaced the Daily Prophet after the mess it made of itself during the Voldemort years – but Ginny knew Hermione really meant something more like, _What's it like being in the grown-up world?_

"No one's died," said Ron, who seemed to find this a funny joke. Maybe it was the kind of gallows humour you had to learn when you spent a year hunting Horcruxes with Harry, but Ginny didn't share it.

Hermione rolled her eyes. " _That_ I would know from the Mirror. I mean, how are things with you two? How's training?"

"Brilliant!" Ron enthused. "Still don't know why you didn't join us, Hermione. Just think, you could be one-sixth of the way to becoming an Auror, right now."

"Oh, right, because _clearly_ that should be everyone's life goal…"

And they were off, bickering happily right through until the food arrived.

Ginny turned to Harry. "You're enjoying it too?"

"Yeah," he said, and Ginny could see it was true. She hadn't seen Harry look so calm in a long time. "It's great because it's all practical, hardly any theory, and we all know I'm rubbish at theory."

"What!" Ginny spluttered, but then she saw he was smiling. And she thought of Hermione hunched all night over books, revising, and Harry always just diving into the fray and seeing how it turned out. "Okay," she admitted. "I'm not saying you're rubbish at theory or anything, but I guess you could say you're a _little_ more of a hands-on kind of person."

"Exactly," Harry said. His hand found hers again under the table, brushing her knee on the way, and she shivered.

After lunch, they ended up all standing in front of the Three Broomsticks. "Well," said Hermione. "See you later, Ginny. And Harry, say goodbye before you go, okay?"

"We'll meet back up here before you two have to go back," he agreed.

"Have a nice afternoon," Hermione said, looking a little pink herself. Ron's arm was already snaking around her waist and pulling her away.

Ginny watched them set off up the High Street, leaning together and laughing over something. She wondered again why it was so easy for them, but of course she knew the answer: They hadn't spent that year apart.

Harry shoved his hands in his pockets, then seemed to think better of it and drew them out again. "Where do you want to go?" he asked.

"How about just walking around for a while, until it gets too cold?" Ginny suggested. "Maybe even out of the village a bit? I feel like I haven't been properly outdoors in ages, except for Quidditch."

Harry's face lit up at the mention of Quidditch, and Ginny knew they'd found the conversation topic that would carry them through until they'd fully warmed up to each other again. "How's the team?" he asked.

"Good. Really good. I feel like I'm finally getting the hang of it, you know, actually managing to be there for them as a captain."

"Of course you are," Harry said. "And I'm sure you're better than I was."

"No way! Harry, you were the best –"

He was smiling again. "Come on, let's argue about it while we walk." He paused, then reached decisively for her hand. He wasn't wearing gloves, so Ginny wriggled her hand free, slipped off her own glove, and slid her hand back into his. It was nice.

They wandered toward the other end of the village. Harry wanted to hear about all the drills she was running and the plays the team was learning, and Ginny was happy to oblige. It was satisfying talking about her ideas with someone who understood so well.

They'd started down a winding country lane outside Hogsmeade before Ginny remembered, "Oh! Angelina came by and watched one of our practices last week. She said to tell you hi."

Harry looked at her in surprise. "Angelina came up to Hogwarts? Just to watch Quidditch?"

Ginny didn't dare just yet to tell Harry – or anyone – what Angelina had really said, which was that she thought if Ginny practiced hard all year, she'd stand a pretty good chance if she wanted to try out for some of the pro teams after Hogwarts. And that the Holyhead Harpies, where Angelina was a reserve player, were definitely looking for new talent.

But it was too soon to talk about it. Ginny didn't even know if she wanted to play professional Quidditch. Though she did think Angelina probably knew pretty well about throwing yourself into the sport hard enough to shake off some of your demons.

Without sharing everything, Ginny still didn't want to lie to Harry. "I think she might have been up at Hogwarts for other reasons too," she said. "But yeah, she said she wanted to see me play."

"Wait," Harry said, " _I_ want to see you play. Can I come watch you practise?"

"You can do one better, if you want," Ginny told him. "Come next weekend and watch our first match, against Slytherin. Who we're going to beat."

"Am I allowed to do that?" Harry wondered. "Just show up for the match and watch?"

Ginny had to stifle a laugh. "Harry, I think you're allowed to do pretty much anything you want at this point. Just tell McGonagall you'd like to come that day."

Harry rubbed absentmindedly at his forehead, although Ginny knew very well his scar never pained him anymore. But he hated being reminded that he would always be given this special status.

Ginny, though, wasn't going to sugarcoat it for him. For better or worse, he was truly a celebrity now. But also, she didn't care, as long as he was Harry, too.

The road entered a patch of woods and they walked on in silence, but now the silence with Harry felt easy.

"How is everyone?" she asked after a bit. "How's Teddy?"

"The cleverest seven-month-old in the world, obviously," Harry said, and Ginny saw how he swelled with pride when he talked about his godson. "You remember how he was already getting kind of fascinated by grown-up food even before you left? How he'd watch us eat? Well, now Andromeda's started giving him baby food, you know, mashed up things, and it's so funny watching him try to figure out how to work his mouth around it. And he's got two teeth!" He paused. "Am I boring you?"

"No!" Ginny said, because Harry swooning over Teddy's little developmental steps was possibly the most adorable thing she'd ever seen.

"You'll come visit him with me when you're back for the Christmas holidays, won't you?" he asked.

"Of course," Ginny said. "I miss him too."

"What are your plans for the holidays, anyway?" Harry asked, a little too casual.

"Nothing much. Just being at home."

"Because your mum invited me for Christmas…"

"Oh, good!"

"…but I don't think I'll come stay the whole time you're on break – I'll come for Christmas, of course, but the rest of the time I'll still live at home."

"Oh." Ginny always managed to block out the fact that Harry was living in Sirius' old house at 12 Grimmauld Place, a choice she couldn't understand at all. Okay, yes, she could understand, it gave him a place of his own, and he felt a responsibility to Sirius to finally make the house liveable. But it was a choice she didn't much _like_.

Just as she thought that, Harry was saying, "You'll like it now, I've been doing a lot to fix the house up. Ron helps a lot. You'd hardly recognise it."

He was speaking in nervous little bursts, and Ginny didn't understand why.

Harry stopped in the middle of the path and turned to face her. There were a few light snowflakes starting to swirl down, and he had those stunning green eyes fixed on her. "I was hoping – maybe you'd want to come spend some time at Grimmauld Place. During the break. You know, if you want to. It's the only place we can really be alone."

Ginny sucked in a breath. She imagined kissing Harry during the few moments they might manage to steal together amid the bustle of her family's house at Christmas, and then she imagined kissing Harry in the emptiness of 12 Grimmauld Place. Entire new worlds opened up.

"Yeah," she managed. "I'd love to. I can't wait to see what you've done with the house."

Ginny wondered why Harry still looked nervous, even with that cleared up, then she realised. She stepped forward and slipped her hand out of his so she could put both hands, the gloved one and the not-gloved one, on either side of his face. She took another step in and kissed him.

Harry's arms came up around her and pulled her even closer. It was awkward and wonderful in their bulky winter cloaks, as the snow fell faster and faster around them.

"At this rate, we're going to be buried in a snowdrift," Harry murmured after a while, his forehead pressed against hers. Ginny could feel snowflakes landing everywhere, on her hair and her shoulders and the back of her bare hand, soft and cold and pure. "Should we get back to the village?" he asked.

Ginny shook her head. "I don't want to," she murmured back.

Harry laughed softly. "Never? Then, let's see, I guess we'll have to build ourselves a house out here or something. Yeah, we can live in a little cottage here in the woods, but we'll go into Hogsmeade every day to buy bread and things…"

"Yes," Ginny said. "And just stay out here forever." Right at that moment, she had the feeling nothing could find her here in the snow, no grief, no dreams of Fred or of Tom Riddle. Just the whispering sound of falling snow, and Harry's arms around her. Just the good things.

A thought from earlier in the day popped back into her head, and she said, "I'm sorry you don't get to spend more time with Ron and Hermione."

Harry pulled back so he could look at her. "What do you mean?"

"I figure you'd like to see more of them – well, I mean both of them together, I know you see Ron every day. But there's so little time as it is, and then you spend all of it with me."

Harry looked confused. "Ginny, if Ron and Hermione are being annoyingly sort of…in their own world right now, that's not _your_ fault."

"But you could spend more of the Hogsmeade weekends with them. If you wanted."

"You think they want me tagging along?"

"Oh." Somehow, she hadn't quite thought of it that way. "Probably not."

"Did you know practically _all_ Ron talks about is Hermione? Every day, all day, even at work? I mean, I get it, I really do, but…" He shook his head. "Is Hermione like that too?"

"Actually, yeah, she kind of is." Ginny had long since desensitised herself to hearing her friend go on and on about her brother, to the point that she hardly noticed anymore.

"They certainly deserve it," Harry said, though he sounded a little wistful. "Anyway, took them long enough!"

"Ron not exactly being known for his emotional acuity, and all."

"And Hermione being maybe a little _too_ patient about letting him figure it out on his own," Harry added fairly. Then he looked bashful and said, "Anyway, I do wish there were more Hogsmeade weekends. But that's so I could see you more."

"Oh," Ginny said again, and her smile matched his.

It was easier to say goodbye to Harry this time, knowing he would be back again in a week, even if she'd be busy then with the match. So when they all met up again outside the Three Broomsticks, Ginny said, "I'm heading back to the castle, but Hermione, you've still got half an hour or so. Why don't you stay and catch up with Harry?"

"Ginny, wait –" Hermione said, but Ginny gave Harry a kiss – just a peck on the cheek, in deference to the tacit agreement with Ron – and waved merrily as she walked away.

"It's okay," she heard Harry say to Hermione, and she knew he'd understood her.

Ginny walked the road to the castle alone in the falling snow, her mind comfortably empty. Whenever her thoughts drifted to Harry's lips on hers and Harry's arms around her, she couldn't help smiling.

When Ginny pulled open the door to the Entrance Hall, a gust of snow swirled in after her. She shook her head to get a few errant flakes out of her eyes and stomped her boots against the floor. When she looked up again, she saw Luna by the doorway to the Great Hall, looking almost as if she'd been waiting for Ginny, though Ginny knew it was more likely she'd just drifted through and happened to end up there.

"Hey, Luna," Ginny said, shrugging out of her winter cloak and slinging it over one arm.

"You were missing Harry a lot, weren't you?" Luna asked, as Ginny came up to her.

"Yeah, I guess I was," Ginny said. She hadn't even realised what that emptiness was until seeing Harry filled some of it back up again. "How did you know?"

"You looked like you did," Luna said simply. "And now you don't."

They walked into the Great Hall together, which was already full of tantalising aromas, though the plates were still empty.

"Is Harry all right?" Luna asked as they walked between the tables. "Is he thinking clearly?"

"Uh, yeah, I think so. I know he's really liking Auror training."

"That's good," Luna said. "Sometimes people who've been subjected to a battle or a significant trauma can be easy targets for Wrackspurts. But I wasn't too worried about Harry, really."

Ginny snorted with laughter, then clapped her hand over her mouth guiltily. "I'm sorry, Luna, I'm not laughing _at_ you. I'm just remembering how nice it is to have you around."

"It's nice having you around too," Luna said seriously. "I would have been sad if you'd died in the battle."

There it was again, Luna's knack for saying the things people maybe ought to say to each other, but almost never did. Ginny felt a sudden urge to hug her, but wasn't sure if their friendship was quite at that point, even after everything.

Instead, Ginny remembered her conversation with Harry, and it gave her an idea. As they reached the point where they would each turn off to their own House tables, Ginny said, "I know it's still a while off, but what are you doing for Christmas?"

"For Christmas? Just celebrating with Dad."

"Why don't you come over to our place?" Ginny asked. It seemed so unbearably sad to think of Luna and her father alone in their house, so close to the Burrow, which would be overflowing with family. "I mean, I have to ask my mum first, but I'm sure it would be fine. You could come for Christmas dinner, or you could just come over in the afternoon or something, we'd really like to have you…" Ginny realised she was babbling.

"I'd like that," Luna said. "And it would be very good for Dad to get out a bit. Thank you, Ginny."

"You don't have to thank me," Ginny said, embarrassed. "I'll ask my mum about it and we'll send over an invitation."

"Oh, yes, an invitation would be nice!"

They smiled at each other and parted ways.


	2. Chapter 2

The week flew by, with the Gryffindor Quidditch team training hard every evening. Whenever the pitch was booked out to another team, Ginny simply had hers run laps around the castle instead. And once she'd let the team go, she stayed on and ran a few more, just for herself. She slept well all week and only had one bad dream, which faded almost as soon as she woke.

On Saturday, Ginny woke up to nerves like she hadn't felt since the day she first stepped on the Hogwarts Express.

 _It's just Quidditch,_ she tried to remind herself.

Right, "just" Quidditch, which was possibly the only thing keeping her sane, and now she was in charge of whether they won or lost and the whole school would be watching and _Harry_ would be watching – what had she been thinking?

At least it was good Quidditch weather, cool and clear with not too much wind, Ginny saw when she took stock from the dormitory window before heading down to breakfast.

Ginny didn't feel much like eating but did so anyway, to set a good example for the team. Poor Matthias looked practically green, so Ginny sat next to him and made sure he had some toast at least.

She'd made a point of never comparing Matthias to past Seekers on the team – _Hey, kid, big shoes for you to fill, coming right after the youngest Seeker in a century, who also just saved the world from Voldemort, oh, and happens to sort of be my boyfriend. And did I mention that before him, the Seeker was my big brother, who could have played for England if he hadn't decided to do something even more impressive and go study dragons…_ – but she knew Matthias probably did something of the sort inside his head anyway.

As the other members of the team started to rise from the table, Ginny put a hand on Matthias' arm.

"Hey, you know there's no one out there you have to impress, right?" she said. "You haven't got to impress anyone but yourself. Well, and maybe me. Feel free to go ahead and impress me."

Matthias managed a weak smile.

"Go on," Ginny said. "I'll see you on the pitch."

She dashed up to the dormitory to grab the rest of her gear, and was just hurrying back out of the common room when she glimpsed a familiar head bent over a stack of books in one corner.

"Hey, Neville," Ginny said, and he looked up.

"Hi, Ginny," he said. "I'm really sorry I can't come watch the match. It's just that I have to revise –"

"You're not coming?" Ginny demanded.

Neville winced. "I know I should come support you –"

"Oh, bollocks supporting me," Ginny said, striding over to him. "When was the last time you saw actual sunlight? Your homework will wait for you, I _promise_." Neville was still shaking his head, but Ginny had one more charm in her spellbook. "Harry's going to be there."

"Harry's coming here?"

"Yeah, he's coming up to watch the match. And he doesn't know so many seventh-years, you know, so he'd probably be glad if you'd sit with him."

Neville wavered, then closed his book. "Okay, I'll come. But Ginny, aren't you going to be late?"

"Oh! Yes, I am. See you at the match!" she called and fairly flew out the portrait hole and down the stairs.

Ginny had just enough time to pick out Harry, sitting in the stands next to Hermione, before she pulled her team into a huddle for last minute instructions.

"Matthias," Ginny said. "This is just like those drills we run, where the rest of us do everything we can to distract you, and you ignore us. And I remember you being rather good at those drills. Do you trust Jimmy and Ritchie?"

"Yes…?" Matthias answered.

"Good, then leave the Bludgers to them. You two? I know you know the drill. Every Bludger is yours, 110%."

"Yes they are!" Jimmy said.

"You got it, Captain!" Ritchie added.

"And Alexandra, everybody out there thinks you're some brand-new, untested Keeper. _We_ know you've been trouncing your brothers for years. So show them what you've got, all right?"

"You got it," Alexandra said, clutching her broom with determination.

"Demelza, Graham," Ginny continued. "Just like we've run it a hundred times before. I give you the signal, Demelza starts the play, Graham and I take position. We've got some good stuff to work with, plays Slytherin haven't seen before. I'm willing to bet we get in at least five goals before they even know what's going on."

Her fellow Chasers nodded.

"Are you ready?" she asked the whole team.

"Ready!" they shouted back.

"How hard are you going to play?"

"Our hardest!"

"Who's going to win this match?"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Positions for kick-off!" Ginny shouted, running to join Madam Hooch and the Slytherin team captain, Vaisey. He was a whole head taller than her, but Ginny found she could glare straight at him and not even blink.

"Sure you're ready, Vaisey?" she asked, as they gripped hands.

"More than your ragtag bunch, Weasley," he sneered.

Ginny looked at the hulking boys behind Vaisey and allowed herself an inner smile. It was no secret that Slytherin always fielded brawn over brains, but luckily for Ginny, she wasn't planning on winning with brawn.

"We'll see about that," she said. Then the whistle sounded and they both shot into the air.

Ginny had to admit, it was gratifying being right. She'd bet her fellow Chasers they would get in five goals before Slytherin got a handle on their plays, and in fact they scored six times in a row before the opposing team finally got one in.

It was so good to be in the air. So good to be flying.

"Watch your left, Demelza!" Ginny yelled, and the other girl nodded gratefully after ducking the Bludger that had been on course for her. Then, almost as an afterthought, Demelza tossed the Quaffle to Ginny, who scored.

Soon they were up by 110 to 40, and Ginny was starting to think they could win the match even without the Snitch if they had to. Slytherin simply couldn't keep up with the complicated plays they were flying, and Ginny found herself chanting a silent mantra of thanks to Angelina's tips and Harry's encouragement and her own obsessive reading on Quidditch theory.

By the time the score reached 160 to 70, Ginny was starting to feel cocky – never a good idea, because in her distraction, a Bludger very nearly unseated her.

"Where were you, Coote!" she yelled, as the Beater zoomed up a couple seconds too late to be any help, and he actually blushed. Ginny made a mental note to apologise after the match. Well, maybe not apologise, since in fact he _should_ have been there. But she could at least say something encouraging.

The score was 190 to 90 when Ginny – constantly scanning the pitch to keep an eye on all of her team – caught a blur of motion out of the corner of her eye. She turned and saw Matthias and the Slytherin Seeker both streaking toward the same point at the far end of the pitch.

Matthias had that intense focus she'd seen in him a few times, a kind of zone he entered during his very best practices. Nothing would distract him from his goal – at least, as long as nothing else got in his way. He was doing just what she'd told him to do, and ignoring everything else.

Which made him an easy target for a Bludger from Brick, one of the Slytherin Beaters.

It was a long shot, but then, Brick had a strong arm. Ginny was just about to yell out a warning to Matthias – Snitch be damned, he was no good to anybody if a Bludger took his head off – when Ritchie Coote swooped out of nowhere and knocked the Bludger halfway back across the pitch, just seconds before Matthias shouldered his way in front of the other Seeker and plucked the Snitch out of the air.

The Gryffindor stands erupted in cheers, and Ginny whooped along with them as she rocketed down to meet her team on the ground.

Matthias was already standing next to his broom, ruddy-cheeked and windblown and gazing dazedly at the golden sphere in his hand.

"You did it!" Ginny hollered at him, then pounced on him and gave the poor, confused boy a hug.

"Did I redeem myself, captain?" Ritchie asked, landing beside her with a big grin, so she hugged him too, then Demelza and Graham when they dropped down beside her, then Jimmy and Alexandra too.

"Come here," she said, pulling them into a tight circle. "You are brilliant players. You've won with hard work and teamwork and clever plays and I'm _so proud of you_. 340 to 90! Who says you're rookies now, huh?"

They were all grinning at her, and Ginny knew she was giving them the same delighted grin back. "Come on, you lot, I think this calls for a party of epic proportions. Go get changed and meet your adoring fans."

Ginny slapped Matthias on the back once more and turned, meaning to make her way to the locker rooms too, but then she saw Harry coming toward her, with Neville and Hermione behind him, and Luna too, and Ginny forgot everything else and ran to Harry, and he threw his arms around her and spun her around and she kissed him and there was nothing else in the world –

Until she pulled away and realised she was still surrounded by all of her team and most of her friends, and all of them were looking at her.

Ginny felt herself blush crimson – what was it about Harry that always made her forget everything else around her? – and fought the urge to go hide under a rock somewhere far away. Instead, she turned to the team, who were standing behind her and not doing a very good job of hiding their smiles.

"Team, for those of you who haven't met him, this is Harry. Harry, I'd like to present the champion Gryffindor team of 1998-1999."

"That was some incredible flying," said Harry, who was looking a little pink around the ears too, and failing to suppress a goofy, happy grin. "I've never even seen some of those plays, and I thought I knew pretty much everything."

"It's all Ginny," put in Demelza, who had flown in Harry's team two years before. "She comes up with the most unbelievable stuff."

"That only a very intelligent team could put into practice," Ginny concluded. "All right, come on you all, go get that party started!"

The rest of the team trotted off toward the locker rooms, and Hermione rather unsubtly urged Neville and Luna back toward the castle. Ginny turned back to Harry.

"You were amazing," he said. "I mean, I knew you were good, but – wow. Did you really just score 340 points against Slytherin in your very first match of the year?"

"Yeah, we did," Ginny said, her giddy grin returning. "And I think I just might keep doing it, since it does always seem to get me that reaction from you."

"What –" Then Harry let out a surprised laugh, and she saw he remembered their first kiss too. "Okay, yeah, you should _definitely_ keep winning Quidditch matches." A little shyly, he slipped his hand into hers. "I guess you need to get up to Gryffindor Tower for the party, huh?"

"You're coming, aren't you?" Ginny asked.

"I – what? No, I don't think I'm allowed."

Ginny rolled her eyes at him. "Harry, what did I tell you about McGonagall letting you do whatever you want?"

But Harry looked uncomfortable. "I just don't think – I'm not sure –"

That was when she realised he probably hadn't been back inside the school building since the morning of the battle.

"Oh," she said. "You don't have to."

In her mind, Ginny flashed back to that morning, leaving her family in the Great Hall and climbing the stairs to the tower to find Harry, passed out asleep on his old bed. She'd just sat there next to him, too tired and cried out and numb to do much more than think, _I finally have him back._

Then, in the months that followed, she'd found it wasn't quite that easy. Yes, she had Harry back, but it was taking them a long time to get back to where they'd once been effortlessly.

"I mean –" Harry said. "If it's important to you, obviously –"

"No," Ginny said at the same time. "That was silly of me, of course you don't have to –"

They both stopped and looked at each other.

"It's fine," Ginny said. "Really. It would be kind of weird of me anyway, right, to bring you along when this is supposed to be about the current team? And I'll see you – when will I see you?"

"Next Hogsmeade weekend?"

"There's one a couple weeks before the Christmas holidays," Ginny said. It seemed impossibly far away.

"I'll come then," Harry promised. "It was – I'm really glad I got to see you play. You're going to have an amazing season."

"Thanks," Ginny said. There were so many things she probably ought to say while she had the chance, but now she couldn't think what they were. "You're still coming for Christmas Day, right?"

"Of course. And you'll still come to mine during the holidays?"

Ginny thought of dreary, half-abandoned Grimmauld Place, but she said, "Of course."

"Oh!" said Harry. "I was supposed to tell you – Ron said he was sorry he couldn't come today, but they put him on the weekend shift."

"I wasn't expecting him to come with you," Ginny said. "I thought you'd want a chance just to talk to Hermione, and maybe Neville."

Now it was Harry's turn to roll his eyes. "Ginny, I wasn't talking to Hermione or Neville. I was watching _you_."

He looked around a little self-consciously at the dispersing crowd – probably catching sight of a professor or two as he did – but he stepped forward resolutely and gave Ginny a long kiss. "I'll see you in December, okay?" he whispered.

"Mm-hm," Ginny murmured back. "And in the meantime, just keep thinking of me winning at Quidditch."

She was gratified to see him blush again as she stepped back. She squeezed his hand. "See you in December."

He nodded, and she let go of his hand.

"Well," he said.

"Yeah," she said. "Okay."

He shrugged in a helpless sort of way, and grinned at her.

"I'm going to get changed," Ginny said.

"I guess I'll go find McGonagall and thank her for letting me come," Harry said.

It was starting to seem like neither of them would manage to walk away, so Ginny said, "Bye!" and then, "Thanks for coming."

And Harry said, "Of course!" and "Bye."

The party in the Gryffindor common room went well into the evening, and Ginny herself _might_ have had a couple shots of the Firewhisky Seth Hathcoat had snuck in from the last Hogsmeade weekend, but she didn't feel drunk, just tired after a long day.

She slipped away toward the dormitory stairs, glad to see everyone having such a good time. Even Neville was away from his books for once and chatting earnestly with a dark-haired sixth-year girl. It was hard watching Neville retreat into himself again, after he'd been so strong last year…

Ginny told herself firmly to worry about Neville another time. Not tonight, when the world actually felt halfway right.

She pushed open the door to the seventh-year girls' dormitory and was surprised to see Hermione, once again on her bed with her knees drawn pensively to her chest.

"Hey," Ginny said. "Everything all right?"

Hermione looked up. "Oh, yes. Sorry, I didn't mean to ignore the party or anything. Just thinking a bit. You okay?"

"Yeah, just tired." Ginny crossed to the mirror and reached up to take her hair down from the messy ponytail she'd left it in after the match.

"I worry about this lack of inter-house unity," Hermione said suddenly.

"You what?"

"I just…I think it can't be good, is all. The way we keep pitting ourselves against each other. Using Quidditch and house points and things to fuel these old rivalries."

Ginny turned to look at Hermione incredulously.

"I know Gryffindor and Slytherin were on opposite sides of the war, more or less," Hermione continued. "But wasn't the whole _point_ of the war not to have to be on opposite sides anymore?"

All of a sudden, Ginny felt white-hot rage boiling up inside her, all out of proportion to Hermione's comment. "No," she said flatly. "The point of the war was to kill the people who were trying to kill us."

"But all that came out of these prejudices," Hermione pressed on, oblivious. "The prejudices against Muggle-borns, and against other Creatures – but are we really any better, hating all Slytherins just on principle?"

Ginny turned to face Hermione, and she could almost feel the anger sparking off her skin. "I don't hate them _on principle_ ," she said. "I hate them because they and their families and people like them killed my brother."

Hermione looked stricken. "Ginny – I didn't mean –"

"No, you didn't, did you? It's all academic to you, isn't it? A nice logic puzzle."

"No, it's not!" Hermione stood up. "I want to make our world better! I don't want this whole thing to repeat in a generation or two, just because we messed up the reconciliation part!"

"Forgive me if I don't feel very conciliatory."

"But we have to try. Somebody has to take the first step. And maybe if we reach out, they will too."

"You're wrong," Ginny said. "You're an idiot if you think they'll ever change."

Hermione stared as Ginny turned and stalked back out of the room. Her anger carried her straight through the common room, out the portrait hole and all the way to the ground floor of the castle, though by the time she got there, she did recognise she'd been unfair.

She still thought Hermione was naïve, and had a lot of nerve telling her to make friends with little Death Eaters. But Hermione wasn't an idiot and Ginny shouldn't have called her one.

The thing was, Hermione and Ron and Harry had spent last year dealing more with the theory of the thing, the Horcruxes, the pieces of the puzzle. They hadn't been here and seen what it was like to live with the Carrows, to live with Death Eaters' children in charge.

Ginny pushed open a door that led out to the courtyard, stepping through and letting it swing shut behind her. She looked around blankly – and it took her a moment to realise she was looking at Neville. He was sitting on a low ledge to one side of the courtyard, wearing nothing warmer than a thick jumper, his chin rested thoughtfully on one fist.

"Hey," Ginny said, too surprised even to be properly surprised.

"Hey," Neville said.

"Can I join you?" she asked, going over to him.

He nodded and made space on the ledge.

"I thought you were still at the party," Ginny said.

Neville shrugged. "Guess I just didn't feel like it after a while." Then he hastened to add, "I mean, I'm happy you won! You played really well. And I did watch the match."

"I know, I saw you there," Ginny assured him. "And it's okay, I don't feel much like partying anymore either."

Neville nodded again, and they sat in silence for a bit. It was cold, but Ginny tried not to shiver. She didn't want to go back inside.

"I had a row with Hermione," she said suddenly. Neville turned to look at her, but didn't say anything. It was something she appreciated about Neville, the way he never seemed to judge. "Not even a row, really. Just…she said some things I thought were stupid, and I wasn't nice about it. I should apologise to her. Tomorrow."

Neville nodded, but didn't press her for details.

Ginny looked up at the dark sky. "You're not worried about getting caught outside so late?"

"Nah," Neville said. "It seems… I guess a lot of things don't worry me as much as they used to."

"Losing a few house points doesn't seem like quite such a big deal once you've faced the Carrows, you mean."

"Something like that," Neville agreed.

They sat a while longer, and now Ginny really was cold, but she just couldn't face going back to the tower until she was sure everyone else would be in bed. "You don't have to stay out here with me if you want to go back in," she said after a while.

"No, it's okay," Neville answered, and they sat a while longer still.

When Ginny finally went upstairs and crept into the dormitory where the others were already asleep, she thought surely she would be exhausted enough to sleep peacefully.

Instead, she found herself back in the Chamber of Secrets.

Tom Riddle smiled, and pointed to Hermione's lifeless body on the stone floor.

"No," Ginny whispered. She refused to cry.

Next to Hermione were Neville and Luna. Then Harry. Every member of Ginny's family, even Fleur, whom she still didn't particularly like. Everyone was there but Fred, who couldn't die a second time. Then there were other Gryffindors from Ginny's year. Colin Creevey's little brother Dennis. Even Draco Malfoy and the Slytherin team captain, Vaisey.

Ginny rounded on Riddle, forgetting even to be afraid. "What are they doing here?" she demanded.

"In death, you're all the same," he said carelessly, and for the rest of the night, he showed her dead bodies of people she knew.

When Ginny woke, the sky was barely beginning to grow grey. She could only have been in bed a few hours at most, but already sleep was retreating. Resigned, Ginny swung her legs out of bed.

She made her way down to the Great Hall, though it was still too early for breakfast. The Hall was nearly empty, but Ginny caught a glimpse of Luna's pale hair, bent over a book at the Ravenclaw table, and made her way over there.

"You're up early," Ginny said.

"Mm-hm," Luna agreed. She marked her place in her book with a nearby serviette and peered up. "You can sit here if you like, but there's no breakfast yet."

"That's okay," Ginny said, and slid onto the bench next to Luna. "What are you reading?"

"The biography of Phyllida Spore. She was a famous herbologist, but she was also Headmistress of Hogwarts, and she revolutionised a number things about the teaching of Herbology," Luna said. "Are you sad?"

It took Ginny several seconds to catch up to the last thing Luna had said.

"I…sort of," Ginny said. "Why…I mean, what makes you ask?"

"Why do you always ask me that?" Luna asked, almost impatiently. "It's not like it's hard to tell when a person is sad. What are you sad about?"

Ginny dropped her chin onto her hands. "Do you ever have nightmares?" she asked.

"I used to."

"Yeah?"

"After Mum died. I would go to sleep and see all kinds of awful things, you know, like the spell backfiring again and hitting her."

"I'm sorry, Luna," Ginny said. "How long did it last?"

"The nightmares? Oh, for years."

Ginny groaned and allowed her head to droop further toward the table.

"Are you having dreams about your brother?" Luna asked.

"No!" Ginny said, sitting back up. "If it were that, at least I'd get to see him again. I could have those few minutes of thinking he's still here."

Luna trailed a finger along the spine of her book. "It would be nice to see Mum again," she agreed, sounding a little wistful.

"Instead I've been having these dreams – oh, it sounds stupid to even say it –"

"Dreams aren't stupid," Luna countered. "There's always some sort of message."

"Then I sure wish I weren't dreaming all the time about _Voldemort_ ," Ginny spat out. She hated even having to say his name.

"Voldemort, really?"

"All the time," Ginny said. "Except not him, you know, like we saw him, when he was here. It's always that young memory of him that came out of his diary when he made me open the Chamber of Secrets, first year. I _hate_ it, I hate that he could control me then, and I hate that he's still in my head now, and I just want him to go away, which he should, because he's DEAD, isn't he?"

Ginny realised she was nearly shouting, and that the few other students scattered around the Great Hall had turned to look at her. She sank back down again next to Luna, who had continued to simply look at her, without the least bit of alarm.

"Uh, sorry," Ginny said, trying to look very interested in the wooden surface of the table in front of her.

"That sounds awful," Luna said sympathetically. "Who have you told about it?"

"No one, really. Just you, right now."

"But I don't know how to help you."

"It's enough just that you're willing to listen to me," Ginny said. "I feel like a real git lately, flying off the handle at people."

"I don't think you're a git."

"Thanks, Luna," Ginny said, and to her surprise, that actually made her feel a little better.

Students were starting to trickle into the Hall, and the first covered breakfast dishes were popping into sight along the tables. Ginny spotted Hermione coming in through the main doors.

"Luna, I'd better go," Ginny said. "I just saw Hermione come in and I kind of owe her an apology."

"Say hi to her from me!" Luna said cheerily, as if Hermione were in another country and not two tables over.

Ginny threaded her way through the growing throng of students arriving for breakfast, and dropped onto the bench next to Hermione.

"Hey," she said.

"Hello," Hermione said, frostily. Ginny had to admit, Hermione did a _really_ good cold shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Ginny said. "I shouldn't have called you an idiot last night, because you aren't one."

Hermione looked like she very much wanted to make a snappy retort, but managed to tamp it down. "No," she agreed.

"So, anyway, I'm sorry."

Hermione nodded, and Ginny figured that was all she was going to get for now. Also, she needed to think fast, because she hadn't had breakfast yet, but there was no way she was going to survive an entire meal in Arctic silence next to Hermione.

"Oh, there's Neville!" Ginny said, glad to have a convenient excuse, as she saw him taking a seat at the other end of the table. "I've got to talk to him. I'll see you later, okay?" She pushed herself up from the bench without waiting to see if Hermione would actually deign to answer.


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione stayed like that for days, not outright angry, but…chilly. Ginny found herself gaining a bit of sympathy for Ron, though Ginny generally sided with Hermione when the pair of them squabbled because everyone knew Ron was a dolt about emotional things.

It was funny how Hermione had grown on her over the years. Ginny remembered finding Hermione swotty and annoying when Hermione first started hanging round. Ginny at that age couldn't understand why her hero Harry Potter didn't have more interesting friends than some bookworm and, well, Ginny's hopelessly uncool brother.

But with time, it was impossible to avoid seeing what a good heart Hermione had. And as Hermione had become an increasingly frequent presence at the Burrow, Ginny had had to admit to herself that it _was_ nice to have another girl around once in a while. By the time Ron and Harry and Hermione had left on their quest, Ginny could honestly count Hermione among her closest friends.

Hermione's cold shoulder wasn't all that fun, though.

But Ginny waited it out, spending a bit more time than usual with Neville or with the other girls in her year, while she waited for Hermione to thaw.

It wasn't until quite a few days later that Hermione, staring down at her breakfast plate, said, "I'm going to start a club."

It took Ginny a moment to realise Hermione was talking to her. "Oh," she said. "What kind of club?"

"That's the problem, I don't know yet!" Hermione looked up and gave Ginny an anxious look, then looked away again. "I need your help to think of something."

Ginny shifted her plate of half-eaten toast away and turned her attention to Hermione. "Uh…okay. Can you give me an idea what kind of club we're talking about?"

"Something to bring people from the different houses together," Hermione said, biting her lip. "I was thinking maybe it could be something where you can only join if you bring a partner who's from a different house."

"That sounds nice," Ginny said carefully.

Hermione glanced at her again, anxious. "But what would be something everybody would actually want to join? Ravenclaws like bookish things, Gryffindors always want to do sport, Slytherins aren't going to turn up for anything they think Gryffindors are running…"

"Whoa, breathe, Hermione," Ginny said.

"I need you to help me think of something popular everybody would want to do."

Ginny was glad Hermione was talking to her again, but she was a little overwhelmed by the turn this conversation had taken. "I'm not sure I'm the expert on this," she warned.

"Just say the first thing that pops into your mind," Hermione urged. "What's something everybody would want?"

"A leg up on the N.E.W.T.s," Ginny answered. She'd been thinking about this, lately.

Hermione looked at her in surprise. "Ooh. That's good, actually."

"Is it?"

"Yeah…some kind of study club, maybe? Would people come to a study club?"

"If it covered the subjects we haven't had enough of," Ginny said. "We must have had the patchiest education ever at Hogwarts, these last couple years."

"Guest lecturers," Hermione breathed. "We could bring in people who are experts in their fields to give us practical lessons and make up some of the things we missed out on. Defence would be the obvious one…maybe Muggle Studies, too, since everyone studying that missed out on an entire year." She winced.

Ginny found Hermione's crazy idea growing on her. "I could ask Andromeda if she would give a guest History lecture," she suggested. "She knows so much, it's unbelievable. And Dad would do something for Muggle Studies, you know he would. You'll probably have to Petrify him just to get him to stop."

Hermione's eyes were shining. "And for Defence…I'm sure Minister Shacklebolt is too busy to come here himself, but maybe he could recommend someone from the Auror Department…and someone from St Mungo's could come and do a practical demonstration for Potions…" Her expression clouded. "Would the professors be okay with this? Would it seem like an insult, like we're saying they didn't prepare us well enough? Oh! I know! If they don't want us to do it here, we could arrange it for Hogsmeade weekends! It would be totally voluntary, and we'd be meeting away from the castle, so it wouldn't even be a Hogwarts thing."

"But not at the Hog's Head," Ginny said, and Hermione stifled a giggle despite herself.

"I'm going to ask Professor McGonagall what she thinks," Hermione said. "It might actually work. But – how do I work in bringing a partner from a different house?"

"They're hands-on, practical lessons, so everyone needs a partner. And the different houses have different strengths that complement each other," Ginny said promptly.

Hermione gave Ginny an appraising look. "That's really good. Are you sure you don't want to be a politician?"

"Yes," Ginny said. "Absolutely sure."

Ginny still thought Hermione might be a bit mad, but she also figured that if this actually worked, she would take part. Ginny was a little worried about her marks in History and Potions, truth be told.

Hermione got her approval from Professor McGonagall that same afternoon, and for the rest of the week she could be seen in the common room feverishly composing letters, then dashing up to the Owlery to send them off. Then there was nothing for her to do but wait for replies.

November rolled into December, and flurries and gusts turned to true winter, but the Gryffindor Quidditch team kept up its practice schedule. Ginny already had her eye on their Hufflepuff match, even if it wasn't until February.

Most days they practised indoors. Ginny had wrangled permission from Professor McGonagall to use the Great Hall sometimes in the afternoons between meals, or to use classrooms when the Hall wasn't free. They were forbidden in no uncertain terms from flying indoors, but the Hall was still large enough for endurance training, and running and throwing drills. Ginny was surprised to see how effective ground training could be for a flying sport, and wondered why more people didn't do it.

One day in mid-December, Ginny decided to have the team practise falling. She got the idea from remembering D.A. practices in the Room of Requirement, where Harry had always had piles of cushions around for when they practised Stunning each other. Quidditch players often got knocked off their brooms, so Ginny figured, why not at least learn to do it right and fall safely?

The team grumbled good-naturedly when Ginny told them the plan, but she thought they seemed intrigued. They were in an unused classroom on the third floor, and Ginny had spent the previous hour Conjuring cushions. She supposed she could have just held practice in the Room of Requirement, which would have provided cushions without any effort on her part, but using the Room for anything less than battle felt wrong now.

First, she just had the team practice falling backwards onto the cushions. Then she had them pair up, one partner holding a broom while the other tried to catch it again as he or she fell. Ginny was pleased to see the progress the team made just over the course of an hour.

At the end of practice, before sending them to dinner, Ginny thanked the team for their patience with all her odd schemes. "You're by far the best team flying at Hogwarts right now," she said, "and I can't wait to see Hufflepuff try to handle you."

She got grins back in response, and felt satisfied as she set about Vanishing the cushions again, as the rest of the team filed out of the classroom laughing and chatting.

A minute or two later, Ginny looked up to find that not all of the team had left. Ritchie Coote was still there, Vanishing cushions and not doing a bad job of it either.

"All right, cap'n?" he asked with his usual grin.

"Hey, thanks for helping," she said. "I didn't see you there."

Ritchie shrugged, and they were nearly finished before he asked, "Going to Hogsmeade this weekend?"

"Definitely," Ginny said. "You?"

"I dunno. Probably."

There was a lull in the conversation again, but Ginny's focus was on removing a last, recalcitrant cushion that had only gone translucent instead of disappearing.

Then Ritchie asked, a little too casually, "Who're you going with?"

"I guess I'll walk over with Hermione, that's what we usually do," Ginny said, still not getting it. "We generally meet up with Ron and Harry in the village."

She looked up just in time to see Ritchie's face fall. "Oh, right," he said, as he turned to the door. "Anyway, see you at dinner."

Ginny stood staring after him. _Did he just…?_

She shook her head, then made her way down to the Great Hall and slid onto the bench next to Hermione, who'd saved her a seat and was poring over a letter.

"Minister Shacklebolt says he'll ask someone in the Auror Department!" Hermione announced.

"That's good," Ginny replied absently, and Hermione looked up from her letter.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"I think Ritchie Coote just tried to ask me out," Ginny said, still stunned. "Why would he try to ask me out?"

"Oh, Ginny," Hermione sighed. "Seriously? You haven't noticed?"

"Noticed _what_?"

"That half the boys in the school fancy you."

"I – what?" Ginny spluttered.

Hermione listed it out as if she were reciting the ingredients for a potion. "You're one of the best-looking girls at Hogwarts, which honestly is probably enough for most of them. But also you're clever, and everybody knows you're a good duellist and you've fought in real battles, and now on top of _that_ , you're clearly well on your way to leading Gryffindor to a brilliant Quidditch Cup win. Do you need more reasons?"

"But –" Ginny protested. "But haven't they noticed I'm with Harry?"

Hermione shrugged. "He's not here. You are. Look around and you'll see."

So over the next few days, Ginny looked around.

What she saw, to her surprise, was Gryffindor boys who tried to sit near her at meals and looked put out when Neville got there first, and boys from other houses whose gaze followed her as she passed by in the halls.

For a couple days, noticing all the attention made Ginny uncomfortable, but then she learned to ignore it again. It wasn't like she was a stranger to public scrutiny – being rescued from the Chamber of Secrets by the Boy Who Lived would do that. So would twenty-four hours chained up in the courtyard on the orders of Alecto Carrow.

By Friday, Ginny had dismissed any lingering thoughts on the strangeness of Hogwarts boys. Instead, she found she had something almost akin to butterflies in her stomach when she thought about the Hogsmeade outing the next day.

Then that night, well before morning, she woke up from another bad dream.

Ginny sat straight up in bed, heart pounding in the quiet of the dormitory. Already, the dream was fading and all she could remember was that Tom Riddle had tried to kiss her, in the Chamber of Secrets, his scaly lips against hers…

Yes, of course she would have a nightmare on a night when she was actually looking forward to the next day, when she was excited about this rare sliver of time with Harry. And of course she couldn't seem to fall back asleep, which made her angry, which made her even less able to sleep.

Ginny lay there, seething over Voldemort and everything wrong with the world, well into the morning hours. She finally slipped into a last hour or so of fitful sleep, then woke to Hermione shaking her shoulder and saying, "Come on, we're going to be late! It's almost half past nine!"

Harry and Ron had the whole day free, so they'd planned to meet in Hogsmeade earlier than usual, and Ginny had been glad they could get an early start. Now, she couldn't help feeing a little less enthusiastic.

"You look tired," Hermione commented, as the two of them started down the road to Hogsmeade at a fast march.  "Are you still having nightmares?"

"No," Ginny replied automatically. She didn't know why she was lying to Hermione, but she didn't feel like talking about it. The sensation of Tom Riddle kissing her was still far too real, and she kept catching herself wanting to wipe her hand over her lips to get rid of the feeling.

It was too early to go into the Three Broomsticks for lunch, so Ron and Harry were waiting for them in front of the pub instead, stomping their feet in the cold.

"Hey," Harry said to Ginny, more subdued than usual, when she and Hermione reached him and Ron. He looked about as tired as Ginny felt.

As the two of them wandered out of town, Ginny filled Harry in on her indoor Quidditch practices, which he found intriguing.

"And how's training?" she asked, as they passed the last houses that marked the edge of the village.

"Fine," Harry shrugged. "Just, it turns out becoming an Auror is hard work – who knew, right?"

"Who knew," Ginny agreed.

They kept walking, but a moment later, Harry burst out, "Kingsley keeps suggesting he could promote me and Ron to full Aurors at the end of this year. Instead of after three years of training."

"But that's great," Ginny said, stopping to look at him.

"No, it's not!" Harry fairly shouted. "Why would he do that?"

"Because he knows you can handle it?"

"We're already having to prove all the time that we actually got into training by merit and not just riding on fame. And Kingsley would be going right over the head of my direct supervisor, which is not exactly going to make me any more popular. He shouldn't be giving us special treatment."

"But why spend three years in training when you've already done more than a lot of fully-trained Aurors have done?"

"Could you be on my side here?" Harry snapped.

Ginny stared at him. "Fine," she snapped back, and started walking again. "Sorry for having faith in your abilities."

Harry hesitated a moment, then caught up with her. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"It's fine," Ginny said.

But the rest of their walk, they couldn't seem to find the ease they'd had with each other the last time, and Ginny had to admit she was glad when it was time to go back and meet Ron and Hermione for lunch.

But there, too, things felt off. Ron was moody, Harry distracted, and Ginny could feel the base of her skull starting to throb from lack of sleep. Only Hermione seemed normal, valiantly trying to make up for their silence.

Even after lunch, when they were on their own again and wandering up the High Street looking in the shop windows, Ginny could hardly get Harry to keep up a conversation.

Finally she asked, "What's up with Ron?"

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, feigning interest in the display at Scrivenshaft's.

"You know what I mean. He was being weird at lunch."

"He's just tired, I guess."

"Tired from _what_?"

Harry sighed. "He's putting in full days at Auror training, then he goes and does evening shifts at the joke shop."

"Why? George has got assistants."

"The assistants aren't the problem."

"Are you going to tell me what is?"

"It's just … George doesn't seem to be putting much effort in. We're worried about him."

Ginny did realise, afterward, that she ought to have taken this comment in the spirit of kind concern in which it was certainly meant. But at the time, the thought that Harry would start telling her about her own brother, as if he knew him better than she did (together with the unwelcome thought that probably he _did_ know George better at this point) rankled.

" _You're_ worried?" she said. "He's _my_ brother."

Harry opened his mouth, then closed it again. Then he demanded, "What's got into you today?"

"What's got into _me_? You're the one who's been moping all day."

"I am not _moping_."

"Oh, yes, you are. I can hardly get proper sentences out of you. And if I try to be supportive, you snap at me."

"Supportive? You mean before, when I was trying to tell you about training? You were hardly listening to me."

"Oh, that's rich, when I've been trying all day to get you to say anything at all."

"I have a lot on my mind right now."

"And I don't?"

"Yeah – but – it's different."

Ginny stopped dead on the pavement, so he was forced to turn and look at her. "You did _not_ just say that," she said.

"I didn't mean –"

"Yes, you did. That's exactly what you think, isn't it? That you and Ron are out there doing real, important things, while we're just having fun here, playing school." Ginny stepped up close to Harry and poked a finger in his chest. "You think it was brave and all for me and Neville and everyone else to try to stand up to the Carrows last year, but of course it wasn't really at the level of what you three were doing. You never ask me anything about that year, because it couldn't possibly be as thrilling a story as hunting Horcruxes, could it?"

Harry gaped at her before finding his voice, but when he did, it was furious. "Where are you getting _any_ of this? I've never said anything I did was more important than anything you did. I haven't asked you about last year because you've made it pretty clear you don't like talking about it. So don't you try to make it sound like I don't care or don't respect you or something."

"You just have no idea what it was like!" Ginny shouted back at him. "You weren't here, that's the thing. You just weren't _here_."

"Well, I'm so sorry I can't invent some new, more powerful Time-Turner to take me back to the beginning of last year, so I could be here instead of, you know, finding the Horcruxes."

"See, that is _exactly_ what I mean."

"So now I'm supposed to apologise that there were things I had to do that couldn't wait?"

And that was the thing, you could just never argue with that.

"I can't believe I'm spending my Hogsmeade day on this," she said instead.

"If you've got somewhere else you'd rather be, be my guest," Harry retorted. "It's not like there aren't about a hundred things I needed to be doing today too."

Ginny stared at him. Did he really not care that this was the first day they'd had together in over a month? "Then I'm so sorry to be wasting your time," she snapped.

"I didn't say you were wasting my time, but if you think I'm wasting yours, then please tell me, because I could definitely do with a couple hours to get all my paperwork done."

"Then maybe you'd better go do your paperwork."

"Maybe I will."

They were standing toe to toe now on the pavement. Ginny saw Harry's breath coming fast, but he determinedly stared her down, and she did the same. She wasn't going to let him win this one, because she already felt like an idiot for having been so naïvely excited to see him, and then instead of it being wonderful, Harry was sullen and they rowed and now he was acting like he didn't even care if he stayed or went.

So Ginny pulled out the serious hexes. "Do you know how many blokes wanted to ask me out this weekend?" she demanded.

"Many, I assume."

"And I ignored them all, do you know why?"

"I'm sure you're regretting the choice now."

"Oh, never mind," Ginny fumed. "Go back to London if you want to."

"Have fun here," Harry said sourly.

Then he turned on his heel and Disapparated.

Ginny stared open-mouthed at where he'd been. Then she snapped her jaw shut and stomped all the way back to the castle, in her mind finding inventive new curses for the Carrows and the way they'd prevented anyone under their watch from learning to Apparate.

Hermione came and found her, of course. Ginny had tried to lie low all afternoon by avoiding the dormitory and the common room and the Great Hall, but she'd ended up hiding out at a table in a back corner of the library, and it turned out the library was not a particularly brilliant place to try to hide from Hermione Granger.

Hermione plonked herself down on a chair across from Ginny and fixed her with a stare worthy of Professor McGonagall. "All right, Ginny," she said. "What's going on?"

"What do you mean?" Ginny tried, though not with much conviction.

"I mean that Harry left Hogsmeade hours earlier than planned, and several people saw you storming back here alone. I sent Ron after Harry –"

"You're all talking about me?" Ginny groaned.

"Yes, because we care about you," Hermione ploughed on. "And Ron couldn't get any sense out of Harry beyond that apparently you'd rather go to Hogsmeade with someone else."

Ginny goggled at Hermione. "Seriously? Out of the entire row, that's the only thing Harry took away, that I could have gone to Hogsmeade with someone else? That's not even what it was about."

"What was it about, then?"

"It was about…about…just how far apart we are. He doesn't know what it's like here and I hardly know anything about what he's doing and I'm afraid we're going to lose track of each other completely."

"And are you going to tell him that?"

"No! At least, not until he owls me first."

Hermione heaved a martyred sigh. "Do you realise how foolish that sounds?"

"I don't care."

Hermione stared at Ginny, if possible, even more intently. "Okay, let me get this straight: You're worried you and Harry are too far apart, so you pushed him further away."

"I – no. Well, I guess, in a way."

"By trying to make him jealous."

"No!"

"Not even a little?"

"I didn't _mean_ it to go that way. He was acting like he didn't even care he was there, and I'd been looking forward to it so much… I've made a mess of it, haven't I?"

"No," Hermione said, her voice surprisingly gentle. "It's a mess on its own, and we're all just trying to make the best of it."

"But it's so easy for you and Ron," Ginny sighed.

Hermione looked at her askance. "Are we talking about the same Ron?"

"You just – you're always so happy and easy with each other!"

"Except for the rest of the time, when he makes me want to hex him."

"Well, yeah, it's Ron. Of course he does."

Hermione looked like she didn't know whether or not she should laugh, but in the end, she did. "Promise me one thing, Ginny?"

"Yeah?"

"Just send off a quick letter to Harry. You don't have to _apologise_ , you don't have to say it was your fault, but write him _something_." Hermione paused to consider. "Though I suppose maybe you should also try not to imply that everything was his fault. Can you do that?"

"Yes," Ginny grumbled.

"Do you have a quill or do you want to borrow mine?"

"I'm not going to write to him right here in front of you!" Ginny protested. "I'll do it tonight."

Hermione grudgingly agreed, "Okay."

That night, Ginny did sit down in the common room with a quill and parchment.

_Hi Harry_ , she wrote. _I'm glad I got to see you today. I'm sorry things didn't go how we wanted, and now I won't even see you again till the holidays. Hope you're not too cross with me._

She looked at that for a bit, then added, _Yes, Hermione made me write to you. But no, she's not standing over my shoulder telling me what I should write._

Not exactly eloquent, but it would have to do. She signed it, _Ginny_ , and headed off to find a school owl.

Pigwidgeon sailed into the Great Hall at breakfast the next morning with Harry's reply. Ginny was as fond of Ron's silly little owl as ever, but seeing him on loan bringing Harry's post always made her sad, a reminder of Hedwig. Ginny sometimes wondered if Harry would ever give in and get another owl.

_Hi Ginny_ , she read, while Pigwidgeon nibbled on a corner of her toast. _I reckon it was my fault as much as yours. Shouldn't have had my head so wrapped up in my work. But really –_ and then there was a bit that had been scratched out so firmly that Ginny couldn't make out a word of what had been there _– Well, anyway, it's stupid to try to discuss it by post, right? I'm looking forward to seeing you at the holidays. Harry_

"Non-answer," Ginny growled, and tossed Harry's letter down beside her plate. Pigwidgeon, startled, fell into the jam pot and Ginny had to fish him out again.

"What was the question?" Neville asked, and now Ginny was the one startled, since she hadn't noticed him sit down next to her.

"I guess I didn't really ask one," Ginny admitted. "Maybe that's the problem."

Neville, polite as ever, nodded as though this made sense, then shook out a handkerchief from his pocket and started dabbing at the jam-covered owl far more patiently than Ginny had been doing.

Watching him, Ginny said, "This is going to sound like a stupid question, but did you ever think, last year, that coming back to normal life would be so _hard_?"

Neville shrugged. "I always assumed I would die in the war, so I guess I didn't think about it either way."

Ginny stared at him. "You _what_?"

"I just didn't think about it much."

"No, I mean, you really thought –?"

"It seemed like that for a while there, didn't it? Fugitives in our own school. Knowing some kind of big battle was coming, and we were going to be right in the middle of it. When Harry found me and told me to get rid of the snake, I thought, good, at least I can do something really useful when I go."

"Oh, Neville."

He looked up from the owl to Ginny. "What?"

"You're so…good that it's almost scary."

Predictably, Neville blushed. "Nah."

"And I miss last-year Neville," Ginny admitted. "Confident and ordering people around. What happened to that?"

"Well, it's easy to be bold when you think it's the last thing you'll get to do."

"And now?"

"And now," Neville said earnestly, "it turns out we've got our entire lives. And I want to do something worthwhile with that." He hesitated before continuing shyly, "I've been thinking…I want to study more, after Hogwarts. That's why I wanted to come back and do this year properly. Professor Sprout's been talking to me about some of the options. There are research institutes, you know, that develop new spells and potions, and discover magical species, things like that. Or there's teaching – I think I could be good at that, even."

Neville stopped there, looking embarrassed, and leaned forward to check on Pigwidgeon, though the owl was now jam-free and hopping happily between the breakfast dishes.

"Good for you," Ginny told him, thinking suddenly that Quidditch seemed a silly thing to want to devote her life to. "I just hate to see you not having much fun, is all."

"Oh, don't worry about me, Ginny," Neville said, and there was a strange little note of contentment in his voice she hadn't heard before. But Ginny didn't get a chance to investigate it further, because just then a food fight erupted between several younger students at the Ravenclaw table, and everyone within range had to duck and cover.

There were some ways Hogwarts would always be Hogwarts.


	4. Chapter 4

The weeks until Christmas both crawled and flew. One minute, Ginny was battling to stay awake through one of Professor Binns' interminable lectures, tired from not sleeping well, wondering if the term would _ever_ end, as she gazed out the window in the direction of the Quidditch pitch and wished she were there instead. The next minute, it seemed, the professors were passing out sign-up lists for students who wanted to stay at school for the holiday.

For their last Quidditch practice before the break, Ginny gathered her team in the common room and informed them they would be flying outside. Six jaws dropped as the rest of the team stared at her in disbelief.

"Ginny…" Demelza dared, voicing what they all were thinking. "It's well below freezing out there."

"Think you're not tough enough?" Ginny asked innocently.

Demelza just shook her head and grumbled, "Sometimes, captain, I think you're not quite sane."

Ginny grinned. "All right, off you go," she urged them. "You've got five minutes to grab the warmest clothes you can find, but remember, good flying clothes, something you can move in. Let's see what you've got. Meet you on the pitch!" she called as the rest of the team scattered to their rooms in a panicked search for warm things.

It was true, Ginny thought as she made her way down to the pitch ahead of the rest of the team, sometimes she didn't feel quite sane either. Well, no, that was being too dramatic about it. But she felt…restless. Like it was high time things moved on, but she didn't know where they were supposed to be moving to.

For the next hour, she made the team fly hard, racing each other across the pitch in pairs and executing fast-paced drills. Within a few minutes, they had all forgotten the cold and were whooping with excitement. Ginny won a race against Jimmy Peakes, but narrowly lost to Seeker Matthias. The kid was _fast._

When the hour was up and Ginny told the team they could go, she thought they looked almost disappointed. "And happy Christmas," she said. "Go home, rest up, and come back here ready to _play harder than ever_."

The team groaned, and Ginny relented and gave them a smile. "But I wouldn't be your captain if I didn't push you to absurd levels of dedication, right?" she pointed out.

They trooped back up to the castle, and Ginny made a point of walking with the group and chatting with them. Usually she was somewhere ahead getting practice ready, or somewhere behind clearing up, but lately she'd been realising that that was mostly because it was easier to stay aloof than to try to be both friend and captain – but aloof wasn't much of a way to lead.

The team scattered when they reached the common room. Ginny saw Neville in one corner, revising yet _again_ , and went over to him.

"Neville, aren't end-of-term exams over already?" she asked, dropping into the chair across from him.

"Oh, hey, Ginny," he said, looking up distractedly. "Just getting a start on next term."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "You're giving Hermione a run for her Galleon this year."

Neville smiled, but continued working. Ginny watched him for a while, then asked, "Got Christmas plans, at least?"

Neville looked up from his books and Ginny was amazed to see a blush creeping slowly up his neck. "Uh – yeah, kind of…" he stuttered.

Ginny stared at him.

"Uh, well, Christmas Day is with Gran, obviously. And we always go visit my mum and dad in the afternoon. But on Christmas Eve –" Neville shuffled his papers around, then finally looked up and whispered, "Can you keep a secret?"

"Yeah, of course," Ginny said, now completely baffled.

Neville blushed even brighter. "You know Marie? You've met her, right, she's a sixth year? Dark hair? She invited me to visit her and her mum for Christmas Eve."

"That's nice," Ginny said, still confused. Then, finally, the Knut dropped and her eyes widened. "Oh! Are you –"

Neville waved his hands around. "No, no! I mean, yes, but – I dunno. Yeah?"

"But you like her?" Ginny prompted.

"Yes," Neville said.

"And she likes you?"

"It seems like it," he agreed, sounding slightly perplexed.

Ginny beamed at him. "Neville, that's the best thing I've heard in a really, really long time."

Neville blinked at her.

Ginny pushed back from the table and stood up. "I'll leave you to your revision," she said. "But you'll still come to the Burrow over Christmas too, right? I know Mum will want you to."

Neville lit up. "Yeah, of course! That would be great."

Ginny slept long and soundly that night. Probably it was just from working herself so hard at Quidditch practice, but she liked to think it was also a little bit because for once she actually felt happy.

All in all, it wasn't a bad end to the term. She had possibly the best school Quidditch side ever, her friends were all doing all right, Harry didn't seem to be outright cross with her (they'd exchanged a few owls since the disastrous Hogsmeade weekend, all carefully neutral) and her nightmares…well, surely she'd get her nightmares under control eventually.

Ginny half-listened to the others chattering on the Hogwarts Express back to London. On the platform, she hugged her parents tightly and allowed them to lead her outside to their new Muggle-style car ("And this one is _just_ a car," Mum said with a little of her old spark, though she still looked far too pale) and then dozed most of the drive home, soothed by the sound of her parents bickering gently in the front seat.

"Welcome home," Dad said, as he pulled up in front of the Burrow and cut the engine.

Still in a half-doze, Ginny disentangled herself from the backseat and started to pull her travel bag out with her.

"I think there's someone waiting to see you," Mum said with a smile in her voice, and Ginny looked up to see Harry, standing in front of the house and looking awkward about it.

Before she knew what she was doing, Ginny had dropped her bag on the ground and was running toward him, fumbling with the latch on the garden gate and bursting through. A big smile broke across Harry's face, and he met her halfway.

"Hey," he murmured into her hair as she flung her arms around him.

"What are you _doing_ here?" Ginny demanded.

"I can leave again if you like."

"Ha, ha," Ginny said, but she held onto him tighter, just in case he actually meant it. "I thought you weren't coming till Christmas."

"I'm not, I mean, I'm not staying here. Just wanted to see you when you got home. Your mum and dad said it was okay if I waited here."

"They didn't even tell me!"

"Are you still angry with me?" Harry asked.

"No. I'm glad to see you."

"Yeah, you too," Harry said. He smiled at her, and she smiled back at him.

"Think you forgot something, Ginny," Dad said, as he and Mum came up the path. He held out Ginny's bag, which was dripping. She'd dropped it in a puddle.

"Oh," said Ginny. "Oops."

Harry aimed his wand and said, "Tergeo."

Ginny watched as every last drop of mud disappeared, leaving her bag dry and clean. "You've got really good at that," she said.

Harry shrugged. "For some reason, we're always learning tidying spells in training."

"You'll stay for dinner, of course, Harry," Mum said as she unlocked the front door, and it wasn't a question. She shooed them all inside, saying, "That'll be everyone, then, at least I _think_ Bill promised he and Fleur would come by, and Percy gets off work in an hour. I told Ron he was to drag George out of that shop of his tonight if it's the last thing he does..."

Mum's voice faded as she bustled off into the kitchen, and Ginny turned to grin at Harry.

"Er, things to do in the garden, right," said Dad, clearing his throat. "Here's your bag, dear." He set the bag at Ginny's feet and hurried away.

Ginny and Harry looked at each other.

"Is now the time for the annoying but necessary conversation we should probably have about our stupid row in Hogsmeade?" Ginny asked him.

Harry pretended to consider. "No, I don't think so. I think it's the time for this." He stepped closer, but then looked so adorably hesitant that it was Ginny who leaned in and kissed him.

"You mean this?" she murmured.

Harry smiled against her lips. "Yeah, that's what I meant."

Ginny was just starting to really enjoy having Harry to herself again, when the front door flew open with a bang, and the two of them jumped apart.

"Oi, _seriously_?" Ron demanded, framed in the doorway. "In my own house, too?'

"Nice to see you, too, brother," Ginny said, rolling her eyes. "Actually, I'm pretty sure I'm the only one of us who still technically lives here, so I'm not sure you get to complain."

Then Ron stepped into the house, and Ginny saw George behind him. She ran to him and hugged him as hard as she could. He started with surprise, but hugged her back, first tentatively, then tighter.

"Hey," George said.

"Hey," Ginny said, and that was all they really needed to say for now.

"Is that Ron and George?" Mum's voice floated out from the kitchen. "Come help me set the table, please!"

Ginny grinned at Ron. "Welcome home."

Ron slouched off toward the kitchen, complaining, "Mum! Why doesn't _Ginny_ have to..."

Bill arrived shortly after, Fleur hanging off his arm, then Percy bustled in.

It was good to see her family around the kitchen table again. Even if Ginny would have happily swapped out Fleur for Charlie (who was coming for Christmas this year, but not until just before the actual day). And she would have done just about anything to have Fred there, but that wasn't going to happen for anything in this world, so there was no point moping over it.

As the family chattered around her, Ginny turned to her mother.

"Mum," she said, "I know you're already inviting a bunch of people for Christmas…could we invite Luna and her dad, too?"

On Ginny's other side, Ron's head snapped up from his plate. "You want to invite that nutter over here?" he demanded.

"What!" Ginny exclaimed. "I thought you liked Luna!"

"Not Luna," Ron said. "Her dad! He tried to sell me and Harry and Hermione out to the Death Eaters, in case you forgot!"

Conversation around them was grinding to a halt.

"Luna is one of my best friends," Ginny said stiffly, "and her dad is the only family she's got. I'd like to invite her over, but if the rest of you aren't okay with that, I'll just go over and visit them myself."

Mum reached over and put a stilling hand on her arm. "Ginny, that's fine, you may invite Luna and her father for Christmas. Ron, I hope you'll manage to be civil to him, and yes, Ginny, I _do_ expect that man to apologise for the danger he put my children in if he's to set foot in this house again."

"Okay," Ginny said. "Thanks, Mum. And you invited Neville and his grandmother, right?"

"Yes, dear."

"And Andromeda and Teddy?"

"Of course."

Harry, Ginny saw, was smiling down at his plate.

Bill was less restrained, and burst out laughing. "Why don't you just make up the guest list, Gin, and tell Mum what to cook, too?"

"Just because _you_ don't care about making sure your friends have a happy Christmas –" Ginny started, and Bill put up his hands in surrender.

"We will _all_ have a happy Christmas," Mum said firmly. "Ron, you've invited Hermione, haven't you?"

"Yes," Ron grumbled, still looking put out.

Harry squeezed Ginny's hand under the table.

She was sorry to see Harry leave that evening, but they agreed she would visit him at Grimmauld Place the next day by Floo – it would be Sunday and he'd have the whole day off.

When Ginny arrived in the fireplace of the dining room at Grimmauld Place the next day, Harry was waiting right in front of it.

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, I want you to see the house," he said, taking her hand and tugging her out to the main hallway.

The first thing Ginny noticed was that the hateful portrait of Sirius' mum was gone.

" _How_?" Ginny asked, gaping at the stretch of wall where it had been.

Harry grinned. "I had your dear brother George in here for a whole weekend working on that, and using some spells that probably aren't technically approved for home use. Ron was just glad it kept him busy." Harry's smile faltered. "Ginny – what I said in Hogsmeade, I didn't mean that I know George better than you do, or care about him more or something..."

"At this point, you probably do know him better," Ginny said, and she couldn't keep a note of bitterness out of her voice. But she swallowed her pride and asked, "How is he doing? He's not got _worse_ than he was over the summer, has he?"

"No, no." Harry leaned back against the wall and thought. "No, at least he talks now. Occasionally. But it's been half a year and the rest of us have started to – well, 'move on' doesn't sound right, but..."

Ginny thought of her nightmares, which didn't seem to be moving on at all, and only nodded.

"And George..." Harry said. "You give him a job and he'll do it, but I wish he'd _enjoy_ something again."

"It takes time," Ginny said. She reached over and took Harry's hand again, and he smiled at her.

"Come on," he said again. "I really want to show you the house."

Ginny was impressed by what she saw. Twelve Grimmauld Place was like a different house entirely. Harry had achieved this for the time being, he explained, by closing off for now the rooms he didn't need – there were a lot of them – and focusing his efforts on the few he did, which were basically the kitchen, a toilet, and a couple of bedrooms.

"Is Kreacher here again, then?" Ginny asked cautiously, as they peered into the closed-up old sitting room.

"No," Harry said. "He's happy at Hogwarts and I definitely don't need a slave. For a while he kept turning up here, hinting he ought to be allowed to come back to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. But I told him this isn't any such thing, it's the New and Not at All Noble House of Potter now, and he's better off at Hogwarts. Anyway, Hogwarts is the one place there are sure to always be Black family descendants he can serve if he really wants to."

Ginny giggled. "If he's so desperate to serve Black descendants, you could always send him off to Malfoy. But then, Malfoy might actually enjoy that."

"Kreacher's not so bad," Harry said. "A bit batty, yeah, but it turned out his heart was in the right place."

Ginny coughed and muttered, "Sees the blooming good in everyone, Harry Potter does," and Harry grinned and grabbed her hand again, pulling her off to see the rest of the house.

When they stepped into the basement kitchen, Ginny had to stop in the doorway, overwhelmed for a moment by memories. Sirius skulking around, watching Harry protectively. Remus and Tonks, before they were married. Christmas, the year Dad had been in St Mungo's, when everyone was still alive. Days and days spent cleaning the house under Mum's watch, Order members always dropping by. And always, in the middle of it all, Fred and George making mischief.

Harry was right behind her and put a hand on her shoulder. "I always still think of Sirius when I'm in here," he murmured.

Ginny nodded. "But you've made it nice," she said. "It's homelier now."

It was true. He'd portioned off part of the room, so it wasn't quite so cavernous, and hung the stone walls with tapestries in warm Gryffindor colours. With a quick spell, he started a fire crackling in the fireplace.

"Look, Ginny, look how grown-up I've learnt to be," he said, pulling her eagerly toward the other side of the room and opening all the cabinets one after another to show her that they were well stocked with food. Ginny laughed at him indulgently. "I even cook...occasionally," he said in a slightly doubtful tone. "Anyway, I'm doing better than Ron and George at their place. I swear they live on beans and toast and takeaway. How much do you want to bet Hermione throws a fit and makes Ron spend the entire holiday grocery shopping?"

Ginny had to agree that this was likely.

There was a pause, then Harry tugged Ginny a little closer to him and looked at her seriously. "So what happened in Hogsmeade, Gin?" he asked. "Why were we so short with each other? Why were you trying to make me jealous?"

Ginny stared at him. "Trying to make you jealous? I was trying to make you stay!"

"By telling me you could have spent the day with lots of other blokes instead?"

"Yeah, because the point is that I _didn't_. I was looking forward to that day, I was so excited to see you, and then you were being...surly."

Harry looked like he was trying not to laugh. "Surly?"

"Well...short-tempered. You kept snapping at me."

"And you kept snapping at _me_."

Ginny sighed. "I'm sorry. I'd slept badly the night before, and I was so tired, but of course that's not your fault."

"And it's not your fault that I'm frustrated with training right now." He rubbed at his forehead. "I'm sorry too. Shall we put it behind us?"

"Yes," Ginny agreed.

"And can we agree to try not to take it out on each other when we're frustrated about other things?"

"That's a plan I can get behind," Ginny said.

Then she became aware of just how close Harry was standing, and the way he was looking at her, and how very much she'd missed him, and they quickly got distracted by other things.

Ginny might be on holiday, but Harry still had his training, so Ginny would slip away from the Burrow when she could in the evenings, inventing excuses and Flooing to Harry's place. She couldn't believe she'd thought she hated this house.

They were curled together in an armchair by the fireplace one evening, Ginny putting off the inevitable point when she would have to go home for the night, resting her head against Harry's shoulder and watching the way the flickering firelight outlined the contours of his chin and his nose.

"I missed you, last year," she murmured.

Harry shifted round so he could see her better. "You too," he said. "It's…it sounds daft, but I would take out the Map sometimes and just watch it for a while, looking at the dot that was you, just to know you were safe."

"I wish a lot of things could have been different," Ginny said.

"Yeah," Harry agreed, running one hand through her hair. "But when I think back through it all, I'm not sure there's anything I really could have changed, any way I could have saved –"

"Shh," Ginny said, and put her arms around him. "You did more than enough."

"I wish –" Harry said, but he didn't seem to be able to say what he wished.

"I'm glad you're here," Ginny said.  
  
"You too," Harry answered.


	5. Chapter 5

Ginny visited Luna during the holiday, too, in her house just up the hill, and one day shortly before Christmas, the two of them arranged to meet up with Hermione in Diagon Alley.

Mum fussed over the idea of Ginny going there without an adult, and Ginny had to remind her that she _was_ an adult, and so were Hermione and Luna, and besides, the war was over. Then she felt guilty for putting it like that, even if it was true.

In the end, Mum agreed to their trip, but hovered around the Floo as Ginny and Luna went through, and made them send back a note from the Leaky Cauldron's fireplace saying they'd arrived and met Hermione.

It was cold in London, but it felt good to be out in the world, bumping shoulders with what seemed to be all of Wizarding Britain, abuzz with last-minute shopping.

"What should I get Ron?" Hermione asked Ginny anxiously.

"If you don't know, I certainly don't," Ginny said, but nonetheless nudged Hermione on out of Flourish & Blotts, just in case she got the ill-advised notion to try to find a present for Ron there.

"Ooh, look, the unexpurgated edition of 'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them'," Luna said as they passed a display rack near the door, and Ginny and Hermione just smiled at each other.

They went back to the Leaky Cauldron for lunch, then took a more leisurely stroll up Diagon Alley, where a few snowflakes now swirling down.

"Angelina!" Hermione said in surprise, and Ginny stopped too – she'd almost walked right past the older girl, not recognising her under her thick winter hood.

"Hi, Hermione," Angelina said, turning away from the shop window she'd been studying. "Oh, and Ginny! And –"

"This is my friend Luna," Ginny said quickly.

"You were in Dumbledore's Army," Luna told Angelina, "And you were Gryffindor's Quidditch captain that year, too. You were a good captain, but a bit tough on your team, I think. And now you're a reserve player for Holyhead Harpies. I imagine you're very good at it."

"Er, yes, that's right," said Angelina, giving Ginny a look that plainly said, _Who is she again?_

Ginny just smiled and shrugged. Luna was more than capable of making her own impressions on people.

"Are you Christmas shopping, Angelina?" Ginny asked instead.

"Nah," Angelina said, and Ginny thought her face seemed sad, or impatient, or maybe both. "I'm all done, done ages ago, actually. I _try_ not to do it all by the end of November, but somehow I always do."

"That's what I _meant_ to do this year," said Hermione, sounding a little panicky. "But I still haven't got anything for _Ron_ of all people, or for Mr and Mrs Weasley…" She trailed off, probably running through her mental shopping lists.

Ginny looked up and realised that where they'd ended up – the window Angelina had been gazing at – was Fred and George's shop.

George's shop.

"Have you been in there lately?" Ginny asked Angelina, looking toward the entrance to show what she meant.

"No… I've been meaning to stop in and see George, but I just haven't found the time. You know how it is," Angelina said.

She looked so terrifyingly sad that Ginny said, "Luna? Hermione? We were going to meet up again in half an hour, right? At that new sweets shop?"

Hermione caught on. "Yeah, I wanted to get some stuff from the apothecary first. Luna, want to come with me?"

Hermione and Luna headed off, and Ginny turned to face Angelina, the girl Ginny had probably idolised most in her time at Hogwarts – tough, strong, funny. Three years her senior. Quidditch captain.

Not someone Ginny had any idea how to comfort.

"How are things with the Harpies?" Ginny asked.

"Great," Angelina said, "Really great. Probably the only thing that is." Then: "Oh, ignore me, what a stupid thing to say. What about you, Ginny? Still thinking of trying out?"

Ginny nodded, feeling a little shy admitting it to Angelina. "Yeah. I am."

"That's good. We need you."

"And I need Quidditch," Ginny said, before she could stop herself.

Angelina smiled crookedly. "Has a way of keeping you sane, doesn't it?"

"I guess so."

Angelina leaned against the shop wall and tucked her gloved hands inside her sleeves. "How's Hogwarts?"

"You know," Ginny said, then realised she herself didn't know how to explain it. "The same as ever, but not the same at all."

Angelina nodded, and Ginny was horrified to see her blink as if fighting against tears. "Angelina –" she started, not sure what to say.

Angelina shook her head angrily. "It's _fine_ ," she muttered, more to herself than to Ginny. "Everything is fine." She puffed out a breath and tried to smile. "Sorry, Ginny. Look at me. I don't know why I'm such a mess. I didn't even lose anyone, you know, it's not like I lost family. But with Fred gone, and George doesn't talk to anyone, and Lee never visits, and Alicia's abroad and Katie's always so strange…" She shook her head. "Forget it."

Ginny thought of George, silent in the doorway of the Burrow, silent over dinner, so silent behind the register of the shop when they'd visited him earlier that day that Ginny had eventually gone out again, feeling terrible about herself, because she just couldn't figure out what to say to him.

"I think George would really like if you visited him," she offered. "I mean, he won't _say_ that he's glad, he probably won't say all that much of anything, but it would be good for him. That is, if you can stand to be around his…morose silence."

"Morose silence I can do," Angelina said, with a watery smile.

"It's not –" Ginny started, and tried to think how to put it. "It's not fine for anyone," she said finally. "None of us are fine, I mean."

Angelina nodded slowly. "That actually makes a weird kind of sense."

"So you'll visit George?" Ginny asked.

"Yeah…" Angelina said. "Yeah, sometime."

"Why don't you go now," Ginny urged, and had an unnerving sense she might be channelling Hermione.

"Now," Angelina repeated. "Yeah, okay." She looked around, and looked at the shop. "I guess I will."

Ginny nodded.

"See you around, Ginny," Angelina said.

Ginny watched the door to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes open and close behind Angelina, then started slowly back up the street. She was just thinking she'd head toward the shop she'd mentioned to Hermione and Luna, though she was early, when Luna herself appeared in front of Ginny, waving happily. She was tugging Dean Thomas by the hand.

"Look who I found!" Luna exclaimed.

"Hi, Ginny," Dean said, looking bemused, as he generally did around Luna.

"Hi, Dean," Ginny said.

"Well, you probably want to catch up. I'll see you later, then," Luna chirped, letting go of Dean's hand and patting him on the arm.

Ginny sighed and gave up any pretence of this not being unintentional-heart-to-heart-with-everyone day. "Thanks, Luna," she said, and Luna smiled and headed off again. Ginny turned to Dean, feeling tongue-tied. "How are you?"

"Okay," Dean said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "You?"

"Yeah," Ginny said. "More or less, I guess."

Ginny looked at Dean and thought about what a nice guy he was, and how that should have been enough, but hadn't been.

"What are you doing now?" she asked. "You didn't come back to Hogwarts this year."

Dean shook his head. "No, I guess I felt done with all of that. I've been apprenticing with a swordsmith in Wales, so N.E.W.T.s don't seem all that important."

"Wow, Dean," Ginny said, impressed. "That's great. Good for you."

"And you?" he asked. "Are you and Harry – I mean –"

"Yeah," Ginny said. "Sometimes more and sometimes less, but – yes. Dean –"

"Look, Ginny –" he said at the same time.

"Sorry. You first," she said.

"Oh. No, I just wanted to say, I don't mind. Really. I wouldn't want you thinking I'm still cross with you or something."

Typical of Dean, to be so good. Too good, maybe. Ginny said, "I was unfair to you, and I'm sorry. That year – fifth year – I was kind of…in denial about some things."

"Some Harry-shaped things?" Dean asked with a quirk of a smile.

Ginny felt ashamed. "I thought I didn't care. I really thought that. And you were always so incredibly nice…"

"You don't have to apologise."

Ginny huffed impatiently. "There, you're doing it again! I almost wished you'd get angry, sometimes. Don't you ever get angry?"

Dean looked at her quizzically. "Not much. Are you going to get angry at me for not getting angry?"

Ginny was about to be annoyed at him for making light of it, but then she saw the funny side too. She sighed. "So, basically, you see why I make a really awful girlfriend."

"That's not true," Dean said.

"And it's very nice of you to say so," Ginny replied, but somehow she found herself feeling a little easier with Dean.

"I heard you were really brave last year, at school," he said.

"I heard _you_ were brave," she countered, "at the Malfoys' mansion." Just the thought of that still gave her shivers.

Dean shrugged and said, "I didn't do much. We'd barely even arrived there before Harry got us out again." Ginny marvelled at how there wasn't even the slightest trace of bitterness when he said it.

"So do you like Wales?" she asked instead.

"Yeah," Dean said. "Yeah. More than I'd ever have thought, actually."

"I'm glad," Ginny said. "Listen, I was about to meet back up with Luna and Hermione, at that new sweets place everybody's talking about. Do you want to come along?"

"Oh, no, that's all right."

"Really," Ginny said. "Come on, did you even get a chance to talk to Luna before she dragged you over here?" Ginny knew Luna and Dean had got to be friends of sorts during the time they'd stayed with Bill and Fleur, and Ginny was firmly in favour of Luna having friends.

"Not really," Dean admitted.

"Then come on," Ginny urged. "We can all have hot chocolate or something, at least if the place isn't already too crowded to find a seat. Everywhere I've been in Diagon Alley today, everyone's talking about it. They're supposed to have some Peruvian wizard's secret recipes…"

Dean grinned. "Don't worry, you had me at 'hot chocolate'. I'll come."

As they set off up Diagon Alley together, Ginny had to laugh at herself, because here she was already turning into her mum, collecting all the strays.

Seeing Angelina, meanwhile, had reminded of Ginny of something she'd been meaning to talk to Harry about. When she knocked at 12 Grimmauld Place the day before Christmas, Harry ran to open the door and hugged her so enthusiastically, he swept her off her feet.

"What was that for?" she gasped, laughing, as he swung her around.

"I'm just happy to see you," Harry said, and Ginny had to admit that was a pretty good reason.

A while later, comfortably entwined with Harry in their favourite armchair, Ginny said, "I was thinking."

"Mmh, thinking's good," Harry mumbled into her shoulder.

"No, that means 'I was thinking, and now you have to listen while I tell you what I was thinking about.'"

"Oh…" Harry wiggled into a sitting position, stopping to kiss Ginny's shoulder on the way.

She giggled. "You're distracting me."

"Distracting is good," Harry said, and kept doing it.

"Quidditch!" Ginny remembered.

"Quidditch?" Harry repeated, surfacing from where he'd been kissing her collarbone. "What about Quidditch?"

"I've been thinking I'd like to play professionally, after Hogwarts. Or try out at least. What do you think?"

"What do I think? Seriously, you have to ask what I think? I think that's _fantastic_. I'm so proud of you!"

"Well, I mean, I have to try out and be accepted by a team and all of that first…"

"Ginny, who are we trying to fool? I've seen you play. You'll have your pick of teams."

"You don't think it's weird?" she asked. "A weird choice of career, I mean? When I ought to be an Auror or some kind of politician or at least a Healer." She made a face. "Except I don't want to be a Healer, because Potions and Herbology are both boring."

Harry laughed. "I think you should do what you want. And if you want to play Quidditch, you should play Quidditch." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "You know, contrary to popular belief, I don't want to be an Auror because I have a 'saving the world' complex. I want to be an Auror because I think I'll enjoy it, at least if I make it out of training in one piece."

"Except that you also _do_ have a –"

"Shh!" He laughed and silenced her with a kiss.

A while later, Harry asked almost plaintively, "Can we go flying together sometime? Tomorrow at the Burrow, even?"

"Of course," Ginny said.

Harry sighed happily. "It's one of the worst things about living right in the middle of the city. Hard to just get out and fly."

"Come a little early tomorrow, and we'll take our brooms out for a bit," Ginny promised. "Maybe we can even get the others to play some pick-up Quidditch."

Harry's eyes sparkled.

Ginny arrived home that evening – Christmas Eve – to find her mum in the kitchen in a flurry of preparation for the next day, and her dad whistling to himself as he hung up the family's stockings in the living room.

It was like letting out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding, to see her parents so relaxed.

Still, Ginny went into the kitchen with some trepidation, knowing she was about to be roped into some sort of cooking. Sure enough, as soon as she stepped into the room, Mum set her to work assembling the ingredients for a truly massive pudding, while Mum herself was up to the elbows in bread dough.

Once she'd set the dough to rise, Mum came to help Ginny finish the pudding, still chattering happily about all the things she had to do before dinner the next day.

"So much still to do," Mum was saying, as they set the finished pudding in the cold cupboard. "Not that I'm complaining, mind you, but with seven of you –" Mum stopped short and her face went white. She turned to Ginny, stricken. "Just for that one moment I forgot," she whispered. "Oh, Ginny, you must think I'm a terrible mother."

"No, Mum!" Ginny cried.

"I think about him every day," Mum said fiercely. "Every second. But with Christmas, and everyone coming home, it almost feels like –" She broke off again, lip trembling.

Desperately hoping Mum wouldn't cry, because then she would cry too, Ginny cautiously put her arms around her mother. It felt weird to be comforting a parent, instead of the other way around. "You're the best mother anywhere," Ginny said. "The _best._ "

Mum sniffed, and valiantly didn't cry, and then thank goodness Dad was there, wrapping his arms around both of them.

"Oh, Molly," he said. "My love. We knew the first Christmas would be hard. We knew that. We'll make it through." Gently, he steered them both out of the kitchen. "Come on, now, whatever you two talented chefs are working on can wait."

He sat them down in the living room, and pushed a plate of Mum's own biscuits on her, which made her laugh a little.

Then Mum looked at the mantelpiece and saw that Dad had hung out all seven stockings, the ones they'd had every year growing up. "You've got –" she said.

"Of course," Dad said softly. "It's not as if he isn't here with us."

That, Ginny thought, was a good way to put it. Fred was there with them as much as they could possibly make him be.

From the kitchen came the sound of the back door opening and closing again, and a voice that was unmistakeably Charlie's called, "Hey, is anybody home?"

Ginny shrieked in an embarrassingly girly fashion that only her family was ever allowed to hear and went running toward the sound of his voice, Mum and Dad close behind.

"How's my favourite sister?" Charlie asked, as he picked Ginny up and swung her around easily.

"I'm your _only_ sister," Ginny countered, but he just laughed and swung her once more before setting her back down.

After that, they all started arriving: Bill and Fleur (Ginny saw Mum flush with embarrassment and slip into the living room to Conjure another stocking for Fleur, because of course they'd forgotten her), then Percy with a new haircut that actually suited him, then Ron and George. The whole family would be under one roof tonight, and tomorrow their friends would be there too, and it would be as good as they could possibly make it.

As promised, Harry came early the next day, so he and Ginny could go out and fly for a bit, and they chased each other through the brittle winter branches of the orchard, laughing.

They went back inside through the front door – Mum had banned all of them from coming anywhere near the back door or the kitchen – to find Ginny's brothers pulling on warm clothes to come out and join them.

Percy peeked cautiously around the doorway and Ginny said, "Perce, come on, play too."

"I can't," Percy said.

Ginny rolled her eyes.

"No, really," he said, looking discomfited. "If I do, and Harry does, we make an odd number."

Because they didn't have Fred.

"Well, zen I weel have to play too," Fleur declared, appearing in the hallway with a toss of her hair. "I am not so bad at Queedeetch, alzough in France of course we prefer le fossé quid."

Harry poked Ginny in the side and muttered with a laugh in his voice, "Your mouth's hanging open."

Ginny snapped her jaw shut and said, "Good, that's eight of us, then. Four a side."

Once everyone had claimed brooms from the broomshed, Bill said, "Okay, Charlie and Harry are our Seekers, that's the most obvious thing, so why don't you two pick the teams. I'll play Beater," he added, in a tone that brooked no disagreement. "Harry, you start."

"I'll take Ginny as Chaser," Harry said with a grin.

"George as Beater," Charlie said immediately.

"Bill as Beater," Harry said fairly.

"Ron as Keeper," Charlie said.

"Percy, can you Keep?" Harry asked. Percy shrugged and joined their side.

"Well, Fleur, you better be able to Chase," Charlie declared.

"Indeed, I can," Fleur said, and she said it with such confidence, they believed her.

They reached the orchard and kicked off, and it turned out the teams were surprisingly well matched. Fleur was no professional, but still better than anyone expected, and if her presence on Charlie's team was a bit of a weak link, it was made up for by the fact that George and Ron were both much better than Bill, on Harry's team. Percy was pretty woeful, but he could just about keep up with Fleur, and Ginny was sort of pleased to find that Ron as Keeper actually gave her a tough match.

And of course watching Harry and Charlie compete for the Snitch (an old cast-off somebody must have brought back from school at some point, but Bill Charmed it so it flew at almost normal speed) was a dream. Ginny was pretty sure she'd never seen anything like it outside the Quidditch World Cup. At one point they lost track of the two of them entirely among the trees, and had to just keep playing on the assumption that the Snitch hadn't been caught yet.

Finally, Harry plummeted back into their midst, catching the Snitch in a spectacular dive that took him nearly all the way to the ground. Ginny couldn't help being just a little bit sorry he'd got it in his head to be an Auror instead.

Charlie shook his head ruefully, but gave Harry's hand a hearty shake once they'd both landed. Then Charlie leaned in, and Ginny could have sworn she heard the words, "But if you hurt my sister, we'll be fighting over more than just a Snitch."

Ginny was going to have to have yet another a talk with her brothers about that whole protective-and-menacing routine they were always doing.

Mum called them inside then, because the guests would be arriving any minute, she said, and look at them, all of them in old Quidditch gear and spattered in mud, and was that any way to welcome their guests for Christmas?

With some grumbling, they trooped inside to make themselves presentable.

Luna and her father arrived first, Luna guiding her father gently by the elbow and Xenophilius hovering in the doorway, as if unsure of the welcome he would receive.

Ron spotted him first, unfortunately, and glared.

Ginny pushed past Ron and said, "Luna! Mr Lovegood! I'm so glad you could come."

Harry appeared in the hallway next to Ron, and Mr Lovegood cleared his throat and said, "Mr Potter. Mr Weasley. I owe you an apology. I was…not myself last year." His hand tightened convulsively on Luna's shoulder.

"Apology accepted," Harry said, stepping forward. "And we're glad no harm came to Luna." He turned to her and grinned. "Luna! How are you keeping?"

"Quite well, Harry, thank you," Luna said, as Mum showed up to urge them all into the living room.

Hermione came next, and she and Ron were annoying and cute for a while. Then Andromeda arrived, with Teddy bright-haired and babbling in her arms, and it was all Ginny could do not to push Harry out of the way to get her turn holding Teddy.

Neville arrived, smiling shyly in the wake of Augusta Longbottom, but Ginny saw that he no longer seemed quite so terribly intimidated by his grandmother, and that his grandmother smiled proudly at him, and Ginny was glad.

Last to come was Kingsley – Minister Shacklebolt, now – who apologised to Mum and Dad from the outset that he wouldn't be able to stay very long, but said he was very honoured to be included in their family circle.

"Hello, Minister," Harry said stiffly, when Kingsley stepped into the living room.

Kingsley placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and they stepped away a bit. Ginny couldn't hear what they were saying, but she saw Harry's posture relax by degrees as they talked.

Ginny moved off to say hi to Neville. "How was Christmas Eve at Marie's?" she asked, and enjoyed watching the blush spread all the way to his ears.

"Nice," he said, and Ginny took pity and didn't quiz him for details – or maybe it was just that Andromeda chose that moment to settle Teddy in Ginny's arms, and Ginny lost track of the rest of the world for a while, as she made faces at Teddy and tickled him under his fat little chin and dissolved into laughter at his infectious giggle.

"Dinner is ready!" Mum announced, and they all went to squeeze in around the magically expanded kitchen table.

Once everyone had found a spot, Dad stood and said, "I hope no one minds if I say a few words."

Harry's hand found Ginny's under the table, and she squeezed back gratefully.

"I'd like to thank our guests for joining us for Christmas," Dad began. "We're glad you could be here. And I know we're all thinking about the people who couldn't be here with us tonight. We in our family have been preoccupied with our own great loss, but everyone in this room lost people dear to them in the war. We lost a son; you lost friends, children, parents, loved ones. It would be wrong to let them go unmentioned today, because without their sacrifices, none of us could be here. Let us toast to their memory." Dad raised his glass, and everyone else did the same.

Dad looked at George, and it was George who said, "Fred Weasley."

"Nymphadora Tonks Lupin," said Andromeda. "Ted Tonks. Remus Lupin."

Ginny saw Kingsley place a comforting hand on Andromeda's shoulder, and Andromeda's arm around baby Teddy tightened, but the hand holding her glass didn't waver.

"Sirius Black," Harry said. "And James and Lily Potter."

"Albus Dumbledore," said Ron.

"Alastor Moody," said Bill.

"Emmeline Vance," said Kingsley.

"Frank and Alice Longbottom," said Neville's grandmother.

"Dobby," said Luna.

"Cedric Diggory," said Neville.

"Colin Creevey," a voice said, and Ginny realised it was hers.

"Gideon and Fabian Prewett," Mum said with a waver in her voice.

"Severus Snape," said Hermione, and a little ripple went around the table, but no one disagreed.

"To all of them," Dad said, and they raised their glasses and echoed, "To all of them."

After that, somehow it didn't feel quite so wrong to talk and laugh and enjoy their dinner. Ginny heard about Hermione's time at home with her parents and about Neville's holiday so far (spent revising, obviously). She watched Harry feeding messy, small spoonfuls of mashed-up potato to Teddy, who looked more like Tonks every time Ginny saw him.

"Harry, you'll spend the night tonight, of course," Mum said at one point, then paused as she seemed to hear what she'd just said. "In Ron's room. You can stay with Ron, and Hermione will stay with Ginny."

Ginny met Hermione's eyes across the table. Hermione blushed, and Ginny knew they'd both arrived at the same plan.

Kingsley left shortly after dinner, though not before Hermione cornered him in the hall. "…Starting the first Hogsmeade weekend after break," Ginny heard her saying, and, "…someone from St Mungo's, a Trainee Healer perhaps…?"

Andromeda went to lay Teddy down to sleep in Mum and Dad's room, but the rest of them drifted into the sitting room, talking and listening to the carols on the Wizarding Wireless Network.

Ginny took a moment just to look around. She saw Neville's grandmother catching up with Mum and Dad, while Fleur seemed to be blithely engaged in improbable conversation with Xeno Lovegood. Neville was chatting with Bill and Charlie, as Hermione earnestly quizzed Percy on something to do with the Ministry. Off in one corner, Ron was trouncing Harry at chess. And by the fire, it looked like Luna was managing to make George almost smile.

That night, after the guests had gone home and the family to bed, and after Harry and Hermione had performed a small switch that slightly rearranged the official room assignment plan, Ginny dropped off to sleep warm and contented in her childhood bedroom, in Harry's arms, and was somehow not surprised when she found herself back in the Chamber of Secrets, back in a dream about Tom Riddle.

Except this time, she wasn't afraid of him.

When Riddle reached for her, Ginny brushed him away and said, "You're like a Boggart, you know that? You're always trying to be whatever we fear most. And Professor Lupin taught me that how to handle a Boggart is with laughter, but Harry taught me the way to deal with _you_ is love. So whenever you sneak into my mind and try to make me afraid or hateful, I'm going to turn you into the people I love."

Ginny took a deep breath and said, "I love you, Harry," and it was Harry in front of her instead of Tom Riddle.

"I love you, Mum," she said, and Mum was there too, next to Harry.

Ginny named her family, her friends, everyone she could think of, everyone she held in her heart, right through to Teddy, who turned up giggling in Harry's arms, and Professor McGonagall, who had always been scary but good and who came and stood sternly next to Augusta Longbottom, who'd somehow pushed her way in together with Neville.

And then, even though she hadn't dared to ask for him, Ginny saw Fred, right there in the middle next to Harry and Ron and Hermione and George.

Fred smiled. "Good on you, sis," he said. "The joke's on Voldemort this time."

Ginny could feel herself starting to wake, the dream growing indistinct, and she reached out to squeeze Fred's hand.

"Good on you," he repeated. "You just keep turning him back into the people you love."

Then Ginny woke up, the memory of everyone she cared about still held close inside her heart.

. . . . .

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed this, perhaps you'd like to read the companion-but-also-stands-alone story "[Saturdays at the Shop with George](http://archiveofourown.org/works/632166)," which tells Angelina's story from the point when she runs into Ginny in Diagon Alley.  
> Updated note: I've also finally expanded a little on Hermione's inter-house unity aspirations, in a small fic here: "[Bright-Eyed and Bushy-Tailed](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2149581)."


End file.
